Unbound - Chapter 632

“You can’t be here,” he said, but the words lacked force.

Imara—no, Gabby—pulled two oversized maces from her belt of weapons. “What happened to your ferocity, Fiend?”

“No. This is a trick.” Felix flared his Voracious Eye. This time, as he pressed past the powerful resistance it was easier.

Voracious Eye is level 96!

Name: Imara, Vessel of the Pathless

Race: Gigas

Level: 90

HP: ???

SP: ???

MP: ???

Lore: The Gigas were ancient precursors of the giantfolk that now are scattered across the Continent. Possessed of incredible natural Strength and Endurance, they were peerless warriors and stout defenders of all that they claimed. The Gigas are a Lost Race.

Strength: Divine power flows through this woman.

Weakness: More Data Required

He still couldn’t pull everything, and what he did read wasn’t worth anything at the moment. “How do you have my sister’s face?”

“This face is mine, and I am no relation to you.” She hefted her maces. “I do not use tricks. I am not so low as you, Fiend.”

Felix couldn’t help but stare at her face, at one of the last faces he’d seen on Earth before he’d been taken. Before everything happened.

Imara, on the other hand, had no compunctions with crushing him flat.

Dodge is level 94!

Armored Skin is level 98!

Felix escaped the first blow, but mid-swing, the Titan’s hand burst alight, and her second blow arrived all the faster. It crashed into his left forearm, snapping both bones with a sound like a gunshot, and forcing Felix to kick off to safety.

He landed twenty feet away, amid the scattered remains of gleaming treasure. His Mind whirled, but he forced himself to shut out the pain and focus. Imara followed him, but as his Intelligence and Perception flared, time appeared to stretch. He only bought himself a few fractions of a second, but his eyes took in everything they could.

His friends were fighting the Inquisitors, and they were absolutely pummeling them…but the redcloaks seemed to have no end. The white-armored zealots hustled forward, streaming down the steps around the now-molten statue of the Rockshaper. Pit had become a cyclone of elemental violence, Harn was bleeding out onto the vault floor, and Archie was little better. In the near distance, he saw Laur creating a shield around Evie and Harn. The woman held the man’s head in her lap, and Tzfell was on her way to their side.

Imara was almost on him, and Felix’s Mind burned, but he had something. A semblance of a plan.

He jumped.

The first of twenty sizzling, golden blades thrust into the spot he once stood, and the others soon followed. Felix soared overhead, flaring Adamant Discord to hurl him farther as three of the swords followed him up. He pulled on intangible connections to the walls, rolling to the side as the weapons tore past.

“Release me!” Imara bellowed, and agony stabbed through Felix’s head and chest. The Domain cores at his waist hummed louder as the suppression array struggled to remain whole. Felix doubled down on it as he shot upward, flaring his two Skills for all they were worth.

Theurgist of the Rise is level 97!

Title: Architect of the Rise is active!

25% Bonus To Learning All Sigaldry As Well As Creating And Maintaining Complex Arrays!

Imara absorbed the flying swords, and the sheer force of her presence redoubled. Title or not, the suppression array unraveled, sigaldry fraying into motes of scattered light.

Theurgist of the Rise is level 98!

Cardinal Flame is level 99!

He lost hold of it.

The ground detonated, and a shockwave ripped across space to smash Felix in the chest. He was thrown into the vaulted ceiling, splintering it with the force of his impact, before he fell hard onto wide, orichalcum rafters. The roof groaned.

The Domain cores went from humming to keening, and Felix threw them away in a panic. Only thirty feet distant, they exploded in white flame and pent-up power. The ceiling shuddered again.

Imara seemingly manifested through the explosion, landing nimbly atop the opposite rafter. Her minor wounds healed and, as he watched, her armor repaired itself. Even her gauntlets.

“You broke my array,” he said, taking his feet unsteadily. “What happened to you, Gabby?”

“I am Imara. Chosen of the Pathless.” She sneered at him as he climbed to his feet. “God’s power runs through my veins. Here in this hellish place, I cannot feel the Light so clearly…but I am filled with it. One with it.”

Below them, a war ebbed and flowed. He was distantly aware of it, like a TV show on in another room. Felix’s party against thousands of redcloaks, the winning side changing with every heartbeat. His friends were losing their ground. They were running out of time.

“Gabby. You shouldn’t be here. You were safe,” Felix said tiredly.

“I am not your kin, Fiend!”

She kicked off the red-gold beam, setting the ceiling to groaning again. Felix didn’t move. He mustered no Skill. No offense at all.

I can’t hurt her.

With one hand, he grabbed the Skull of the Forsaken and shoved as much Mana into it as possible. The sigils ignited, and immediately the rafters were filled with exact duplicates of Felix, so convincing that not even he could tell the difference. Every single one of them was suddenly wreathed with blue-white lightning.

Imara tore right through them. “That will not work on me again!”

Felix’s false bodies were ripped to shreds, dissolving into clouds of fading violet Mana that burst into Imara’s face. Her eyes burned with Light, but she couldn’t see through it. She swung her maces and hit nothing.

Abyssal Skein is level 90!

She didn’t see him above her until it was too late.

“Unite the Lost!” he screamed.

Felix’s index finger touched the very top of the Titan’s bare head, and he discharged his Skill. Noise like a gathering orchestra rolled through him, into her, flowing its way down across her entire being.

BEGONE!

The Pathless’ voice was an immutable command. A corruscation of golden light kicked his power away, slicing the strings and puncturing the drums until they groaned and rattled. The Skill failed.

No! Felix was suspended between moments, his Mind working furiously. Leave her alone!

Inside of him, his Hunger roared. She echoed all of his fear and hate and anger. Amplified it.

LEAVE!

A monster clawed its way from his core, a creature he’d been warned against.

HER!

It had lain, coiled within the dark, waiting to be called…and now it surged forth, a piece of him—all of him, woven together from a thousand different parts—it hurtled through every single one of his Mana Gates at once.

ALONE!

Felix howled.

A massive dark fist, clawed and scaled as his own and extending a little past the wrist, manifested above him. It filled the entirety of the vault’s ceiling, drenching everything in red-gold, blue-white, and a domineering violet.

“What the fuck is that?” Imara screamed, even as the golden voice shouted louder.

RUN! the Pathless cried.

It was too late.

As once before, the phantom fist moved faster than Felix ever had and met Imara and at the intersection of orichalcum rafters.

It reduced them to nothing.

Imara careened to the earth, her form flaring with a nimbus of light. Felix appeared there, just as she landed, and his hand drove her falling body into the stone walls. They cratered, stone and metal turned to dust the moment his dire fist met them…and only the Pathless’ power saved Imara at all.

The Inquisitors nearby were not so lucky. They were obliterated, as if wiped from the very face of the world.

Imara moved. Her arm hung limp, and her knee was bent the wrong way, but she gritted her teeth and stood. The golden glow around her was flickering. Failing.

DEATH! Hunger cried. DEATH TO THE BETRAYERS! DEATH TO THE GODS!

The fist started to unfurl its massive fingers—

No! Felix threw everything he had against his Hunger. Every ounce of Willpower and Intent smashed into the yawning darkness inside his own core…and Felix trembled. His insides were tearing apart. It was strong. Too strong. Hunger! Stop! That’s my sister!

The fingers of the phantom hand quivered, locked between Wills…until finally it relented. His Hunger retreated, and his Core Manifestation flickered out.

Silence hung above the Vault of Nine Kings, filled only by the flicker of flame, the oozing plop of melted orichalcum, and the groans of those who yet lived. Lava dripped from the cracked walls, a steady trickle that burned its way across the ground. Felix dragged himself forward, arm by arm, as blood poured from his eyes and nose. He didn’t care. He crawled until he reached Imara, now lying on her face. He pressed his fingers to her bloody cheek.

“Un-unite the L-lost.”

The world unraveled around him as another took its place. He was surrounded by golden light that sang to his senses like a balm. It was nothing like his Auroral Forge. It wasn’t a Skill. It felt more like a Blessing from an Urge, only more complicated.

The light suffused Imara completely, filling her up until there was little room left for anything else. Unite the Lost came up against that light and stalled, unable to find purchase. Details from his Voracious Eye came back to him, his Mind connecting the dots.

Name: Imara, Vessel of the Pathless

Like what the Maw tried to do to him. Or Vellus. The Pathless had hijacked her, made some room and forced his power into her core. Her core was the Pathless in a way that the Fathom had really been a sliver of Noctis. Only far, far stronger.

Fuck the gods, he hissed. And Unite the Lost began to whirl.

Significance drained out of him hard and fast, the power of his uncanny Skill no longer seeking to break into her core…but to hurl it back, wholesale. The light shifted, but only by the smallest of margins.

It pushed back, and an alien Will, vast and unknowable, slid across Felix’s efforts like a slick oil within that golden shine. The harder Felix bore down, the more vast the opposition became, until it was like he was raging against the sky itself. The light’s Will—the Pathless’ Will—excoriated his Mind, drawing a deep and abiding pain that burned through all of his Aspects. It was only Felix’s mental defenses that held any part of it back, but the walls of his Bastion shuddered beneath their onslaught.

The green ocean boiled, and the forests seared, while dark columns of smoke filled the air. Felix was lying on the ground, finger to Imara’s head, but he was also in the walls of his Bastion, hands pressed against the outer gates, Willing them to hold on.

Title: The Call of Defiance Activated!

+25% Willpower When Contested By A Foe Of Divine Formation Or Greater

That Title hasn’t activated all this time…why now? he wondered; but he knew. The Pathless’ presence was growing as something inside of Imara—no!—Gabby fueled their connection.

Felix was facing the Coward in White directly, now.

In the distance, amid an incongruent sunbeam, something stepped from the flames. The hills were charred, and the skies had turned red from suffocating smoke and hellish light, but all of it was washed out. He couldn’t make out the being, couldn’t even stare directly at it because it shined like the sun. It stepped toward his Bastion, and the gates shook as if it had rammed them.

It stepped again, and steel and stone screeched as it was bent to its very limit.

It stepped again.

“No,” Felix whispered to himself. “I will not give in.”

He set himself against the gates, arms bulging and lightning burned in his eyes. “I refuse.”

Title: Born of Will is active!

You Are Your Own Maker!

Title: Tyrant of Choice is active!

You Choose Your Own Destiny!

Bastion of Will is level 100!

Master Tier!

You Gain:

+5% RES

+5% FEL

+…

Yes! In the real world, Felix fumbled for his pouch, extracting a sealed stone bottle. He bit the entire top off and slammed it back.

Legendary Essence Detected During Formation!

[Essence Draught of Atlantes (Pure)]

Broken Path and Fatebreaker Titles Found!

Master Tier Bonus Added!

Unbound Nature Resonates With [Essence Draught of Atlantes (Pure)]!

Calculating Effects…

Choose A Feature:

Serenity – Eye of the Storm

Preservation – Shield Against Calamity

Anchor – Weight of Obdurance

There was more to the words than simple letters. As always, there was a weight to the Features, and he held onto the sensation as the Pathless tried to crush him.

Adept Tier…is important. Tempering is hard, and it means more. The walls shook, and Felix’s thoughts stopped. Master…Tier is a lot more influential. That was when most formed their Pillars. Felix was beyond that, at least the normal nine, but he’d been warned: the changes to his Skill based on the choice of Feature would be drastic.

Serenity. Eye of the Storm. Felix followed the impressions from those words. Meaning flowed over him, through him. It was…peace. Calm. A tranquilness that transcended all conflict. Though the world might be battering down his walls, he would stand, untouched.

Preservation – Shield Against Calamity. Stalwart defense. Thick walls. Towers that breach the sky so that they can see all that comes to terrorize them. Calamity may come, it may lay waste to all around him, but he would survive.

Anchor – Weight of Obdurance. Relentless. Headstrong. Unshakeable from the course once chosen. All the Realms may fall…but not while he still stood.

They all drew him. Serenity was tempting, to be the calm in the chaos. Felix yearned for that. If his Mind were tranquil, maybe he’d see half the problems coming before they got someone killed. Preservation was equally appealing. A shield against the worst was what he aspired to be on his best days. But he…Felix knew his choice. It was a struck chord, resonating with his Mind in ways too complicated to follow.

“Anchor,” he gritted out.

Congratulations!You Have Absorbed The [Essence Of Anchor]!

The rest of the Essence Draught’s powers vanished, pulled away from his Bastion to somewhere dark and hungry, but Felix didn’t care. He could feel the new Feature pouring through him as vertigo assaulted his senses. His Bastion thrummed, each blade of grass and stone attuned to a sound so rarefied it defied description.

Light burst forth, a blue-white and red-gold radiance that bathed his Bastion with its strange hues. Without a single moment of transition, the walls turned from crumbling Fiendstone to something far grander. They thickened and rose up, gaining new towers and shielded ramparts, while behind him, the central hexagonal tower expanded to twice its width and three times its height. The Fiendstone itself turned opalescent, with red-gold and blue-white as its main tones.

The being of incomparable light hit his gates again. Pain lanced across Felix’s Mind, but they did not shake. They held.

Congratulations!

Due To A Confluence Of Divinity Within Your Foundation, Your Skill Has Evolved!

Bastion of Will (Epic) Has Evolved Into Void Sanctuary (Divine)!

Level is retained!

Void Sanct—

Felix waved away the Skill description. He had no time.

Unite the Lost!

Once again, his significance burned as his Skill assaulted the Pathless’ hold on his sister. He breathed, and he pushed…

…and the Pathless retreated.

He’s weakened, he realized. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in his chest. I can do this!

It took so much significance—too much—to establish the tiniest foothold, bleeding him of every ounce he had to spare. But Felix knew that wasn’t all he had to offer. He could burn his own significance, the weight that layered into his foundation. It could cost him his advancement, even his life. He could strip away all the progress he’d bled for in the past year…and he would. His sister was here, against all odds, and she would not be left behind.

Unite the Lost!

He flared the Skill again, and pieces of his core funneled into its pattern. He put more of himself into the Skill. More. All that was Felix was on the line. All that he had been and could be, framed in that moment. He peeled back layer after layer of the Pathless’ interference and sank his claws into the space left behind.

“Mine,” he hissed.

A hand grabbed his neck.

Imara lifted him into the air, standing up and slamming him against the wall in the same move. The stone shook, and lava shot from deep cracks…but it didn’t break. Her arm was shaking. Her eyes, the same blue as Felix’s own, couldn’t quite focus on him. “Y-you…the Light? What have you…done?”

Felix could barely answer. His core was breaking apart, just to fuel his Skill. He felt her confusion, her stymied rage, and a deep upwelling of sorrow. Felix watched her eyes come into focus. On him.

“What have you done?!”

Her conjured blades bit deep into the top of his shoulders. Felix howled as significance drained from him like a sieve, while Essence was consumed to patch the burning wounds.

Skill Evolution!

Pit Has Received The Mantle Of The Stormlord (Legendary)!

Hurtling from behind, Pit slammed into Imara, and it was either a testament to her weakness or his strength that she was sent flying nearly thirty feet.

Unite the Lost cut off, spiraling out of Felix’s grasp as he crumpled to the ground.

“Don’t touch my Companion,” Pit growled, while wings of lightning and flame spread out from his back. It echoed the chaotic elemental magic that coursed across his chest, neck, and paws as well.

The woman got back to her feet, though, and she conjured another long sword. This one flickered and jolted, as if it were glitching in her grasp. “Then I’ll kill you first!”

Pit became a comet. All Felix could make out was the trail of elemental chaos before the Titan was sent careening through the air—directly into the molten statue of the Rockshaper. Her impact drove a hole through its soft, white-hot center and into the Inquisitors marching through the entryway. Then the Rockshaper split into two molten, uneven halves, and buried them.

Imara didn’t get back up.

“That’ll…show her,” Pit said, before he, too, collapsed.

Pit!

Felix wanted to run to his friend’s side, but he couldn’t move. Only the broken wall held him upright, as his insides revolted against what he’d done to them. Every bit of his Aspects were in agony, and his blood flowed freely from his many wounds. He stretched a hand toward Pit, but everything hurt so much, and the room was growing too dim to see in.

Something burned him, but Felix didn’t have the energy to flinch away. Lava. He saw more of it coming down from the deep cracks in the wall. How…great. Never been…burned alive before.

Across the battlefield, his friends were fighting, too caught up against the Inquisitors to notice them. The grinding of his cores was tearing at him, and it felt like he would vomit everything he’d ever eaten. Something warm dripped from his ears. They’ll survive.

An echo of Will and Intent shivered across Felix’s Mind. Not words. Not images. A feeling. A…terrible pain that desired an end.

The…lava?

The echo came from the burning morass across his shoulder. It scorched his flesh, ate through the tatters of his Garment, and it was insistent.

The feelings continued, but now concepts accompanied them, hazy like a dream. Eagerness for…quiet. Darkness that called to it. A torture ended.

Scaldara, he realized.

A gift, it sent. Freely given to the Cardinal Primordial that saved so many upon the mount…

What? What are you saying?

Images followed, too many to number or describe. It washed against Felix’s Mind like a tidal wave made up of a single phrase.

I choose to save you, Bondbreaker.

Chthonic Tribute engaged without Felix’s Will. His Hunger resonated with it, quivering within her pool of darkness, and she held it out to him as if asking a question.

Felix took a breath, and he answered.

Chthonic Tribute!

The lava upon his shoulder lifted, transmuted into an orange-brown sludge that poured into his mouth. Power followed. Mana and Essence flooded him, patching up the parts that bleed and leaked as Sovereign of Flesh engaged, until his core space was filled to bursting.

More sludge floated through the cracks in the wall, and the doorway to the bloody workshop, until a veritable river flew through the air toward Felix’s open maw. Memories flashed through him, thoughts and images from Ages long gone, seen through eyes that were utterly alien. He let them all pass through him, filtering through the branches of his Divine Tree before funneling down into the eager shadow of his Hunger.

Behind all of that, came the significance. A great bounty of it, inundating his core space and setting his dual cores to spinning faster than they ever had before. It was borrowed—stolen—but in time, it would be his in full. The Pillars below righted themselves, their crystalline structure reinforced as the freely given gift imbued every part of him.

Felix stood. His Aspects still felt like shit, and it was agony just to move, but he was healthy and…whole.

“Thank you,” he said, turning toward the cracked wall. But all he found was stone dust, gold coins, and broken metal. The Superior Elemental was gone.

“Euuugh…”

Pit was next to him, parts of his fur and feathers consumed in chaotic Mana that swirled ceaselessly. Felix knelt down, pressing his hand against his chest. He immediately yanked it back. The chaotic Mana shocked, burned, and froze him all at once. Pit was breathing, at least.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said. Through the swirling magics layered onto the tenku, Felix could make out small nubs that had grown over his once-constant wounds.

He was healed.

Your Companion Has Claimed The Mote Of Frenzy!

Evolution In Process!

“It worked,” he breathed. He looked around at the devastation in the Vault of Nine Kings but shook that away. “It worked.”

Felix Converged with Pit, and it was like swallowing magma. Whatever the Mote was doing, it was a horror on Felix’s Spirit…but he muscled it down. Held him.

What else could he do?

Beef and Vess were still fighting. Despite the molten metal and stone, the Inquisitors were not stopping their assault, and only exploding Spears and walls of chitin kept them at bay. Archie had fallen unconscious, but a battered and bloody Laur carried him over a shoulder as he staggered out of a maze of fallen treasure. Tzfell and Evie were carrying Harn toward Felix, his legs bandaged but still severed at the knees. His Voracious Eye told him the man was stable, but his Health and Stamina were badly damaged.

Felix’s tired Mind ran through ideas and plans. He could win this battle. He could get to Imara and maybe spend some of his newly gained significance, and maybe it’d work. But not without losing one of his friends.

“Retreat,” he said, but it was too quiet. He winced and raised his voice. “Retreat! Now!”

His voice shook the room, causing more of the metal and stone to crack and tumble free. The entire vault groaned, but his friends heard him. They disengaged and ran.