Hyperion Evergrowing

The streets leading up to the western canal were silent, absent of all life except for the occasional scurrying rodent or half-drunk vagrant lying in shadowed alleys. Leif could sense the life within the homesteads they ran past, family units sharing spaces barely large enough to fit them as they sheltered from the encroaching night as much as the distant war. He had taken to carrying all of their newly bought possessions himself. The burden didn’t slow him, but it was somewhat inconvenient to carry.

I need a bigger spatial ring. He thought. Shame the cost scales almost exponentially with size. You could buy a small village with the money it would take to purchase the next size up from the ring I got from the Twin-Heart vault.

“Luriem seems too quiet.” Lucia said, her steps lighter now that she wasn’t carrying half her weight. “Kartinth was never like this, not at night.”

“It’s been like this since the war started.” Slayde said through ragged breaths, the man trailing behind them on unsteady legs. “There’s no official curfew, but most folks stay home. City isn’t as safe as it used to be. Well, it was never overly safe, but you get it.”

“Thanks, but I wasn’t asking for your input.” She said, glaring over her shoulder. The sell-sword flinched, almost tripping over his own feet.

Leif slowed his pace, and Lucia matched him with a scowl. “Maybe ease up on the overt hostility until we’re out of the city?” He suggested.

Lucia frowned, then nodded, shooting Slayde a distrusting look. Leif let her get ahead, then dropped back, holding out a hand to the young man. He grasped it as if it were a lifeline, and practically fell forward, using Leif’s hand to keep himself steady. Slayde’s whole body went rigid as healing energy flowed from Leif, travelling up his arm only to quickly propagate throughout every inch of his body. The dark veins receded somewhat, and his sunken eyes changed not at all. But he was re-energised, and shouldn’t slow them as much.

“That… that has quite the kick to it.” The mercenary said, blinking owlishly. “I didn’t realise you were actually a powerful healer.”

“And yet you agreed to come with us and let me heal you through your withdrawals?” Leif said.

Slayde licked his lips, not meeting Leif’s gaze. “Well, I don’t have many choices, do I? It was come along or be killed, either by you, my former bosses or my own stupidity.”

“The third option might still happen.” Lucia muttered under her breath, but in the stillness of night her words carried. The former sell-sword noticed, but did his best to pretend he hadn’t.

“We should… uh, keep going, yeah?”

“Yeah?” Lucia mocked quietly. “You think?”

===

The sound of water steadily streaming down from a raised grate into the slowly moving canal was the only sound that Leif could make out. Well, other than the faint rustling of cloth or Slayde’s laboured breaths. He healed the young man again, earning a peep of surprise, then a relieved exhale.

“That's the way out. Do you see the small gate down by the walkway? Past the bridge and a little further along.” He said, squatting down with his hands on his knees, squinting into the darkness.

“I thought you said the canal wouldn’t be guarded.” Leif said, kneeling against a low wall overlooking the city’s canal. Red-tinged moonlight filtered down from above, though the streets faded in and out of monochrome as clouds drifted overhead, obscuring season for minutes at a time.

“It is? I don’t see anyone.” Slayde whispered. There was a faint thrum of power as the man activated a skill, his aura spiking ever so slightly with its use. He frowned and closed his eyes, moving his head from side to side. “I can’t sense any guards.”

“Well, there are five people in the warehouse next to the bridge, and judging by their attempt to hide their presence, I suspect they’re on the lookout for something. Likely us, if I had to guess.” Leif said.

The mercenary blinked. “You can sense that far? That’s a really potent perception skill.”

“It’s mostly my aura.” Leif replied.

“There are two people on the roof.” Lucia said as she rematerialised out of the shadows next to them. Slayde flinched at her sudden reappearance, but Leif had sensed her coming and didn’t react. “They have crossbows. You were right, this is definitely a trap.”

“I didn’t set you up, honest.” Slayde quickly said.

“You would have led us right into it regardless.” Leif said.

“I pushed myself too hard chasing the girl. My perception is compromised, and it isn’t getting any better.”

“The girl?” Lucia repeated.

“The scary young lady with the sword.” Slayde corrected himself. “Please don’t stab me.”

“Don’t make it so tempting.”

“Both of you calm down.” Leif said, doing the aura equivalent of flicking them in the forehead. “We’re not springing the trap. Is there another way out of the city?”

“Other than the main gates, or smuggling routes specifically operated by local gangs, not really.” The mercenary said, rubbing his head as if he really had been struck. “Did you just slap my soul?”

“Focus. How many guards operate the gates at night?” Leif asked.

“Ugh, only a handful. The northern and eastern gates are less protected, but the difference will be only one or two guards. But if you want to leave the city at night you need paperwork, otherwise it’ll be a fight.”

“How far is the northern gate?”

“Couple minutes in that direction. Are we going to avoid the soldiers camped outside?”

“They’re mostly in the west, so it shouldn’t be an issue.” Leif decided, already moving off. Once they were out of sight of the canal, he stood and brushed dirt off his lower legs. Lucia copied him a moment later, and Slayde a moment after that.

They made it fifty metres down a curved road lined with old rundown inns and a handful of partially full stables and sheds before a group of shadowed figures emerged, blocking the way forward, weapons gleaming in the distant firelight coming from one of the inns.

“Well, well. Who do we have here? Mask, covered in cloth. I do think you’re who we’re looking for.” Said a tall woman, her hood not quite covering her bald head. “Naughty little Slayde and some runaways? Didn’t think you’d fall for the trap at the canal, lucky us.”

“Shit.” Slayde hissed. “Reese and her gang. I’m so dead.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“We won’t kill you kid. But I spoke to Maline, she’s less than pleased with you at the moment. I’d start rehearsing your apology. You can practise grovelling until she arrives.”

Leif didn’t stop, but he did slow to a walk. The group noticed, fanning out to cover the street, blocking his way, the faint light of skills shimmering over their weapons and bodies. “Would you mind telling me why you’re after me?” He asked, voice flat.

“The greyband got a scoop, and offered a portion of the promised bounty to anyone who helped capture you. Come along, would you? I’d hate to hurt you too badly.” Reese said, her voice lilting and partially slurred.

“Your concern is unnecessary. You couldn’t hurt me if you wanted to.” Leif replied. Mentally he contacted Lucia, then Slayde, relaying the same message. “Follow after me. We’re moving fast from here on out.”

Lucia immediately fell into step behind him, though the sell-sword almost tripped as the words were projected into his mind.

“You seem quite cocky for someone who doesn’t show their face. You a noble or something? Run away from home?”

Leif didn’t reply, instead he burst forward, the flagstones cracking underfoot as he rapidly closed the distance between him and the gang. Physically he was weaker than he would like, without the effects of [Consuming Aeons] increasing his attributes, engaging a dangerous enemy was not ideal.

But these were not that kind of foe.

Skills flashed and two men charged forward with a cry. Their blows bounced off a golden barrier, their skills having little more success. Leif reached out and grabbed one man by the neck, picking him up as he dashed forward and draining him of energy. Three seconds later a weakened, unmoving, but still alive body hit the ground. Vitality flowed into Leif, increasing his attributes, but not by much. It seemed [Consuming Aeon’s] partially scaled with his cultivation and the increased amount of life-force he could hold within him.

Two more gang members fell, one with a broken arm, the other with a golden fist to the gut. The scion took two bounding steps and reached Reese, the woman’s eyes were wide, her expression shocked. She threw her dagger to the side, the steel of the blade clattering against stone.

“Fuck. How?” She spluttered.

“How many more groups are out looking for us?” Leif asked, looming over her.

“I- I don’t know. Only those on good terms with Kurt and Maline, maybe five or six. Please don’t kill me!” She cried out as Leif grabbed her by the forearm, the scion wrenching her off her feet, his iron grip dangling her several centimetres off the street.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Reese kicked out, driving her knee into his chest. Leif didn’t flinch, but she did, the impact of bone against wood having broken something. The gang leader wailed and cursed, her expression of panic morphing into one of hatred. “You’ll never leave the city alive. I won’t let you, not after what you’ve done.”

“I take it that there are more than five groups running around?”

“Fuck you.” She spat weakly, then the last of her vitality drained up into Leif’s arm and her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, unconsciousness taking her.

“Gods.” Slayde muttered as they ran on. “How strong are you?”

“Not to be dismissive of the fighters in this city. But I don’t think any amount of under level twenty fives could bring me down at this point.”

“Oh.” He said. “I see.”

“Do you?” Lucia asked, and while Leif couldn’t see her face, he could practically hear the sneer of contempt dripping from her words.

“I’ve learnt my lesson.”

“Oh, have you?”

They kept running, buildings streaking by. Guided by Slayde they evaded two more groups hunting for them, but ran into three more. Their attackers stood little chance in actually stopping them, but the fourth group they encountered didn’t engage, instead following on the rooftops as they neared the northern gate.

When the wall and gatehouse finally came into sight, Leif could sense almost a dozen people flitting in and out of his aura, with likely twice that too far away for him to sense. They skidded to a halt on the wide open street leading to the city’s entrance, and one of the bored looking guards standing next to the close gate squinted up at them as if not sure what he was seeing. Leif grabbed both Lucia and Slayde, healing away their fatigue. The young man was sweating profusely, and while Lucia seemed tired, physically she was in much better shape. Hostile intent flared from a nearby rooftop, and Leif stepped back to avoid an obsidian dagger.

“How are we getting past the gate?” Slayde asked, clearly agitated as he glanced around, his hands fidgeting at his side for a weapon he no longer had. He clearly considered snatching the dagger off the ground, but decided against it after glancing at Lucia.

“As quickly as possible.” Leif replied, rolling his neck. He boosted both of his companions [Alacrity], then ran forward.

The guard who had spotted them yelled out in surprise, though it only took a second for the others to realise what was happening. The street flashed with multicoloured light as skills lanced out of the darkness towards him, several intended to slow or restrain, others would likely have mained or even killed if he was both human, and incapable of protecting himself. Unfortunately for those attacking, he was neither.

“Stop!” A guard atop the gatehouse yelled. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We’re under attack!” Another screamed, fumbling for an ivory horn at his hip. The first guard swore, turned, then placed his hand onto a stone slate up above the gate. A protective barrier shimmered into place, weaving in and out of the iron portcullis that backed the mostly wooden door.

Fire detonated in front of Leif, thrown from somewhere off to the side, but [Amber Aegis] easily protected himself and the others from the elemental attack. The guard with the horn blew into the instrument, the trumpeting sound echoing through the night. Three cloaked figures burst from a tavern, their hands and weapons aglow with power. Leif ripped the tavern’s door off its hinges with a brief effort of will, knocking the assailants off their feet as the heavy wooden object slammed into their backs.

“That shield is siege magic!” Slayde yelled, ducking as a lance of ice sailed over his head. “I don’t think you’re breaking it.”

“Maybe not.” Leif said as they rapidly approached the gate. He turned mid step, sliding as his momentum carried him forward a handful of metres. He lowered his hands, cupping them before him. “Lucia, deal with it.”

Without hesitation the girl jumped up, planting a boot into Leif’s hands. Then he heaved, boosting her upwards and towards the top of the gate. The guard with his hand pressed to the stone slab yelled something unintelligible, then the sound of steel ringing against gilded wood sounded from above them. Leif caught a thrust spear from another guard, twisting to throw the man off balance.

A moment later the shield protecting the metal grate flickered, then vanished. “Got him.” Lucia yelled.

“Stay up there!” Leif called, six sets of fingers wrapping around steel. He pulled, the sheer amount of strength he could output by focusing on [Might] making the metal squeal in protest as he forced it apart. Planting his feet Leif yanked with every ounce of strength he had, the portcullis parting as he tore the welded metal apart until there was a gap wide enough to fit through.

The wooden part of the gate was hardly a problem, it rippled like water, eagerly jumping to obey his will as he made it burst outwards like a flower blooming. Leif reached behind him with a golden arm and yanked Slayde through the opening. Then they were out of the city, nothing but open, empty fields and the occasional farmers homestead for over a mile.

Lucia jumped down, vaulting over the parapet. He caught her by the waist, lowering her along with her fall to gently place her on the ground. She laughed, hair wild, orange eyes practically glowing with excitement. Leif waved his hand, and the wooden part of the gate resealing itself, then he melted the wood into the surrounding stone, making it all but impossible to open without force.

“You two are crazy.” The former sell-sword wheezed, his hands on his knees as he let out heavy breaths. “I can still come, right? Please don’t make me stay.”

“Keep up.” Leif said, jogging away from the gatehouse and the city.

“If you can.” Lucia said, sticking out her tongue.

The mercenary groaned as he forced himself to stand straight, then he made to follow. After two dozen metres he stumbled, a dull thud resounding as he hit the ground. “Ugh.” He grunted. “What the… I don’t…?”

Leif and Lucia stopped, the former sending an impassive glare at the man from under his mask, the matter squinting her eyes in suspicion.

“I can’t feel my legs.” Slayde whispered, his eyes going wide. “I can’t feel… It's so cold. Why is it so cold?”

Leif knelt, sensing the life-force inside the man quiver, shaken by something he couldn’t detect. Slow, rhythmic clapping sounded from the city wall, the sharp crack of palm against palm carrying in the night breeze, easily overshadowing the shouts coming from behind the closed gate.

Two people jumped down from the defences, one a large man with grey skin, his physique almost a wall of tightly wound muscle. The other was a lithe and dangerous looking woman, almost every inch of revealed skin covered in either piercings, tattoos, or both, her hand of flesh making contact with a hand of poisonous mist turned solid. At Leif’s side, Lucia drew her sword, but his attention was focused on the young man trembling on the ground.

“It’s so cold.” Slayde whispered. “Mother… I…”

“What did you do to him?” Leif asked. Sending a stream of amber vitality into the man’s back. It didn’t seem to have any effect.

“Poison.” Maline said simply, her arm of flesh linked with Kurt as they approached seemingly without worry.

“Not withdrawals?”

Maline tutted, amused. “Withdrawals? I cured little Slayde of that condition months ago. Obviously I needed to keep the ruse up, nobody wants to work if they know I’m keeping them on a… tight leash. Should I mention I can track the location of those afflicted with my toxins? Should I have told them that, dear?”

“I hardly think it matters now.” Kurt grunted. “We meet again, adventurer. No hard feelings, I assure you. And you, girl. Once this is over we’ll let you go. We’re not monsters.”

“Speak for yourself.” Maline giggled, raising a hand. Slayde’s back arched as he screamed, his skin writhing as if a thousand insects were crawling underneath. He screamed again, the blood-curdling sound silencing all other noise.

Leif grabbed the young man, hauling him up and away from his employers. He writhed and spasmed, blood pooling from his mouth as he bit into his tongue. A wooden javelin appeared in Leif’s hand, and it tore through the air, aimed for Maline’s centre of mass. With casual ease, Kurt stepped into the projectile’s path, catching it out of mid-air and turning it to ash with an intense flare of heat.

“None of that.” Kurt rumbled. He clenched a fist, and the wooden gate behind him began to smoulder, cracks forming throughout the wood as it began to blaze with an internal heat.

“Will you surrender if we offer to spare the boy’s life?” Maline asked, corrosive energy dripping from the fingers of her green, misty arm. “Come with us willingly?”

Leif didn’t reply, and Maline smiled.

The screaming stopped.

Then the young man melted, skin boiling away as emerald energy burst from him. His muscles burnt away, his bones bubbling as they dissolved from the inside out. Within seconds there was nothing left but a puddle of blood, churning acid, and sizzling, dissolving clothes.

Leif stared down at the mess that had once been a living being, his hands stained with still boiling blood, the sleeves of his robes unravelling as they were unmade by what few drops of hungry, viridian liquid had splashed against them.

“What is wrong with you?” He asked, his voice whisper quiet. Behind him, Lucia wretched.

The wooden gate buckled under the force of a mighty blow, then men and women streamed out of the city, weapons drawn.