[Severed Divinity] 97. Who I Hate Most

Welco jumped back as Yvonne’s aura licked his skin, but Isen was the main target of her ferocious, void-blade killing intent. He was bleeding all over, his one non-golden eye closed.

“Little mouse, where are the prototypes?” she purred, but the words were obviously addressed at Welco. She was staring at him, barely paying Isen a glance.

Isen was nothing to her. She still dismissed him outright.

“I will lead you there myself,” Welco said. “I can do so with a shadow puppet. And if I renege on the promise, hunt me and my clan down.”

“I was right to target the boy,” she observed. “With that kind of bleeding heart, you’ll never reach tier four.”

The Anarch watched all of this with a curious expression. It licked its lips, its massive tongue dripping drool onto the roof that froze into a slick. “Best be quick, Yvonne, if you want a city left to save.”

“Why is my offer to lead you with a proxy unacceptable?” Welco asked, looking between the two tier fours.

“Because I trust you less than even her,” the Anarch stated. “Yvonne, I need the boy intact,” it cautioned.

She gave it a questioning look. “You’re making my job more difficult,” she muttered. Still, her aura didn’t relent. More cuts appeared on Isen every second. Some were shallow and already healing as Welco watched, but others cut deep into flesh, scoring through the cloth armor with minimal resistance.

“You don’t have to trust me,” Welco said. “Send one of your best drayavin with us to collect the prototypes while you both lead Aran away.”

Yvonne crossed her arms. “Where is your target destination? North isn’t an acceptable answer.”

“They mentioned Shevenar in my presence,” the beast interjected.

Yvonne rolled her eyes. “As if they’d be stupid enough to say where they’re going out loud, within earshot. Come on, Welco. Neither of us wants the destruction of Eldrassin. And believe it or not, I don’t enjoy torturing children. Help me help you.”

Isen gasped, then rose to a seat, both eyes closed in concentration. Welco could feel something coming off of him. It was weak, but—

An aura. He really did it.

Yvonne must have realized it at the same time. She laughed humorlessly. “A little prodigy, aren’t you?” She glanced at the hulking monster. “Is this why you want him alive? Smooth talker, incisive intellect, aura sense as a tier two? A human pet?”

Sumana Laius gazed down at her imperiously. “No wonder Shor Mei finds you unfit for your own territory,” it commented. “You are unsuited to ruling. Sadistic, lacking any talent in diplomacy. Have to steal a city by force.” It grinned a terrible, toothy grin. “More like a beast than elf. Pathetic.”

Isen gave a muted scream as a jolt of void lightning raced through him, Yvonne’s first non-aura attack.

Welco watched as Eldrassin went to shit, Isen was tortured, and the tier fours goaded each other into what could become an all-out fight. It felt like the world was crumbling around him, and he was already stretched to his limit, his energy devoted to concealing the beast—though it was making a mockery of his efforts with its booming voice and uncontrolled aura.

“Fine,” Yvonne said, eyes wild. “I will kill the boy if you don’t act now.”

The beast rumbled, its aura surging like a tempest. “Reveal me, mage,” it said.

Welco dropped the shadow concealment and breathed in a shallow sigh of relief.

It bellowed skyward. A geyser of frost shot up, blasting through the cloud line. Then it turned its incensed eyes on Yvonne. “Remember, you only get your peace—and your city—if I have the legacy.” It exhaled sharply through its nostrils, frigid air misting around its head. “Welco. I am not ignorant of your motivations. This is your last chance. Lead Emerai to all thirteen prototypes. Leave your shadows with us, to keep us informed. We shall lead Aran away from Eldrassin. If you fail me, I will exterminate your clan to the last child. And if I do not, Yvonne will.”

As it finished speaking, a winged figure dove from the sky, swooping before it crashed into the ground and alighting on the Anarch’s body. The Anarch must have created a vulnerability in the city’s defenses with its blast, allowing the drayavin to enter. Welco didn’t recognize her—she wore a brown shroud that covered every part of her, save her wings and her clawed hands and feet. There were two cutouts for her eyes, which glowed red and were slitted.

She was, however, most definitely a tier three.

“Emerai, go with them to claim Eldrassin’s legacy,” Sumana Laius said. “You must keep the prototypes personally. And keep the boy alive.”

Emerai hopped onto the roof, bowed, and turned to face Welco and Isen. “The boy from the gate,” she murmured. Her voice was surprisingly pleasant, like an entertainer’s. She was lucky—drayavin mutations often distorted mouths, tongues, and throats, making speech impossible in some cases and grating in others. “I did not expect to cross paths again.”

Welco couldn’t even say he was surprised that the drayavin and Isen somehow knew each other. “How shall we depart?” he asked.

Emerai extended her wings wide. They almost looked like bird wings, but instead of feathers she had silken fur mottled white and gray. “Climb on my back—how else?”

Welco hurried to her side, shadowy tendrils whisking Isen up from where he sat, panting. Welco wrapped his arms around Emerai’s shoulders, using shadow to fasten himself in, and pinning Isen to his back. The boy was awkwardly cradling the ruins of his belt, his hands clenching the tattered hilts of his swords. At least the bow and quiver on his back looked intact.

Only when the drayavin kicked off the ground did Welco feel the tiniest bit of relief. The shadow he left behind observed as the tier fours exchanged baleful looks. After a few seconds, and an explosion from the upper level where teams of Eldrassin’s finest defenders wielded heavy artillery, Sumana Laius and Yvonne Lehal finally got moving. Welco hid his shadow in the monster’s own, hitching a ride rather than trying to keep up.

He watched from Emerai’s back, and from his shadows below, as the three divine core cultivators came to blows on the already half-ruined upper level. Two of seven clans had been attacked so far, excluding the evacuated Femera and Corasin clans. An all-out conflict would spread destruction to the remaining three.

Welco’s only solace came from Yvonne Lehal’s apparent intent to save the city. It didn’t matter that her motives were selfish—as long as it meant less loss of life.

“Aran went to the upper level because of you,” Isen said suddenly, his voice cutting through the blistering wind. “Because you brought his subordinate’s corpse back. Or because he could sense you brought the legacy home, too.”

“He would have gone anywhere in search of the legacy,” Welco replied, exhaustion beginning to sink in. “Would have done anything to claim it. Will do anything to claim it.”

Sumana Laius and Yvonne reached the ruined stairway and ran straight up the cliffside leading to the upper level. Both extended their auras out when they arrived, and the twin auras nearly tore Welco’s observing shadows apart.

On the other side of the plateau, Aran cocked his head, sensing the blatant challenge in their auras. He shot his companion a knowing look, and the two reversed course, leaving Clan Tressin half destroyed, its defenders scattered and gaping in shock at the sudden departure. Welco didn’t miss it when Aran collected several scrolls from the clan’s repository and placed them in his personal cosmovault. Because of course he wasn’t attacking for the sake of it—he was looting, too.

Their airborne trio was already beyond Eldrassin’s domain when the tier fours finally came to blows. And when they did, in a smashing of killing intents and aspects made manifest, Welco’s blood went cold. Aran’s companion, the petite woman who’d been following him around this entire time—

She matched blows with Yvonne, and while she was pushed back, it was only barely. Meanwhile, Aran’s aura easily shattered that of Sumana Laius, suppressing it.

On his own, Aran was a match for multiple tier fours. And it was now clear that he had brought along someone who was an actual asset in battle, one of those elite existences that could punch up tiers, who could punish tier fours as merely a tier three.

This was a big problem, considering that, while Welco wanted to save Eldrassin, he also wanted to keep the prototypes out of the Aran Empire’s hands. Someone would have to fight Aran off. And if Yvonne and Sumana Laius couldn’t accomplish that… Well, their only hope lay in Lumina Eldrassin waking up, and not just that—returning to full power, so she could force Aran’s retreat.

That sounded pretty unlikely.

Perhaps we should just destroy the legacy? Welco considered, his thoughts racing. If I did so, Sumana Laius would murder Clan Femera. Even the mages I sent away earlier. It would be dooming myself, my lineage, and all the people I care about… to stop the Aran Empire from maybe finding a way to reverse engineer the legacy and reach new heights. Oh, and to keep Aran from reaching tier five himself.

It just seemed so absurd to him—why was no one else as concerned as he was? Such a magical development concentrated in the hands of an isolationist, xenophobic empire certainly couldn’t go wrong.

“Isen,” Welco said, “you know who I hate most, in all of this?”

“Who?”

“Lumina Eldrassin. For playing with fire even she couldn’t control, and for doing nothing to ensure it wouldn’t burn everything down if she succumbed. The height of hubris and—”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Emerai cut in, her voice saccharine, “but where are we going?”