Path of the Pioneers

Morgan wiped a bit of potion from her mouth, stars dancing in her eyes as she adjusted to the vast influx of mana. Her body was at her limit, if she took in more mana she might just collapse on the spot - or start profusely throwing up. This was the trouble with being a mage: mana sickness.

She still wasn't exactly sure why this was the case, but the body was ill adapted to taking in mana any faster than rest would provide. To take it in any faster, and in large quantities, would place a great deal of stress on your body -- and that stress is mana sickness. Dizziness, nausea, heat waves, even passing out on the spot. She'd never heard of an instance of it, but she was certain that it could kill you outright if you somehow kept taking in mana without falling unconscious.

But it was far better to be a bit woozy than to be completely worthless in this fight.

Isa was already back into the fray, dancing around their foe with incredible speed and grace. Each swing that the warrior made with their fists was dodged by a hair's breadth, and swiftly countered with a flaming slash. When they came out of their shell, this was always the result - pure perfection.

In Morgan's mind, they were not the Pioneer of Deceit because they were a particularly adept liar or a skilled manipulator, they were the Pioneer of Deceit because they hid away their true self from the world. When their back was pressed against the wall and they were given a nudge forward by an ally, she was allowed to see it -- Isa, the most nimble of them all.

They skated around the warrior, dodging each attack directed at them. One by one, they slashed through each tendon that their daggers could reach. Calcaneal, plantaris, biceps, slowly working their way up with the precision of a surgeon.

She scanned through each and every possibility of how she could help from the sidelines. There was barely enough room for Anselm and Isa there with how fast combat was flowing. The improvement-type spells that she could cast on the two of them wouldn't likely change the current state of things, and she just needed to buy as much time as possible for Selene.

Morgan clapped both of her hands together, mana flying out from them towards the center of [Anathema] -- where the group of combatants continued to dance around one another. The first mana to get there was a foundational layer, something used to transfer the rest of the mana and to build the spell on.

Isa smoothly slid past a wild punch, making a slash towards their subscapularis -- their armpit. She could only transfer enough to cast [Barrier] once, and it wasn't nearly enough. Another fist swung out, smashing through the condensed wall of mana like a thin pane of glass, and then into Isa.

They went flying once more, flames trailing behind them as they clattered against the ground. High agility, but incredibly low resilience. That was the trade-off that Isa made, and it meant that drawn-out fights were a great risk. One slip-up was all that it took to turn the tide against them.

As she transferred more and more mana through that initial layer, a second circle began to build itself over [Anathema]. It started out dim, almost invisible to the naked eye. It would serve no purpose if it could easily be seen, after all.

Isa clambered back swiftly, passing by Morgan as they returned to battle once more. She caught a glimpse of blood trailing down their lips -- they wouldn't be able to take much more. If she didn't hurry, they would die, even if they would surely insist that they can fight a bit more.

She rubbed her hands together, feeling the heat course through her. Bright glyphs and symbols began to line the outer edge of the circle, rotating slowly in tandem.

Isa leapt backwards out of the circle, still facing the enemy in case they moved. Anselm quickly followed suit, diving out and tucking his feet in to get just out of its radius. She watched as a glimpse of lucidity hit the warrior's face, something in their combat-crazed facade finally cracking. Their foot pressed to the ground, primed to launch them out in just a moment.

Morgan clapped her hands again, activating a skill: [Bloodfold Seal]

Two deep gashes dug themselves into her left arm, as if the work of invisible talons. Energy surged up from the circle, the sound of knocking wood echoing through the space as a tall box appeared around the warrior, surrounding them like a coffin.

Blood seeped from the wound, running down her arm and dripping onto the ground below. But this wasn't even close to done. Thirty seconds, she needed to hold out for thirty seconds. A large thump came from the box, and she clapped her hands again.

Two more gashes on her right arm, the pain searing through her body. Her feet felt a bit unsteady underneath her, but another box appeared over the first. With each layer, the seal would grow stronger - it would be much harder to break. But I really hate doing this...

One more clap - two more slashes along her left leg. Another clap - her right leg. A resounding pang in her skull, nearly enough to send her toppling to the ground as the first layer was broken through. Someone pressed a potion bottle to her lips - probably Isa - and she swallowed the contents flowing into her mouth. The wounds were being healed, and her aches were dulled, but the process was slow.

Far slower than them.

She clapped again, a cross cutting itself into her back. Blood soaked into the fabric of her cloak, and she began to feel fairly lightheaded. Another layer was shattered through as they adapted to their new surrounds, she thought she might collapse from the pain.

She clapped again, the same cross cutting into her torso. With either that cut, or the one before it, or both, something vital was hit. If she added another layer, she might really die.

The neck is next...

Her legs gave out for a moment as two more layers shattered, and then another. There was only one more layer left before they freed themselves, and the spell broke. Shaky hands hovered over each other, ready to go. Her vision was blurry and she felt sick to her stomach.

She hesitated. The box shattered. The circle disappeared.

Morgan nearly gave in then and there, but she refused to slip away. Even from the ground, even as her allies picked her up to move her failing body, even as the circle filled with rapturous light and...

Finally...

The cave was filled with pure radiance,

She blinked, eyes wavering as she saw something that wasn't right. They took a shaky step forward, moving towards Selene's position.

H-how?

Morgan had seen some dungeon bosses reduced to ash by this skill, and yet they were able to move within it. Slowly, slowly picking up their pace, walking out of the circle. And she knew that there was nothing that she could do to stop their march towards Selene.

"A-Anselm.. I-Isa.." She addressed them with a hoarse voice, blood trying to work its way up through her throat. "T-they're... W-we need to get back... In there..."

A moment later, their silhouette faded from the circle. She heard a small gasp, and then that radiance began to disperse. Glittering sparks lingered in the air, and she saw that brute hanging over Selene. In just a moment, they would finish her off.

And she would die.

Panic rose up in her chest, "Stella!" The command was issued without another word, and she felt as her body came back into her control - if only for just a moment. But she would make it count.

They were wounded, their body covered in ash and blood. They staggered in place as if they barely even had the energy to raise their foot and stomp on the girl.

She leapt out of Anselm's arms and cast [Telekinesis] a half-dozen times in sequence, using it to tug her body along like a marionette. Her limbs screamed at her as she hit the ground, the threads digging into her skin and yanking on her joints. It didn't matter, though.

They wouldn't be able to dodge, they wouldn't be able to move. She just needed to kill them.

She sailed through the distance between them, whipping her arms around as she unleashed razor-sharp threads of mana. The thin layer of aura that remained around them wasn't nearly enough to stop her magic. A few threads looped around their throat, tugging them backwards before promptly lopping their head off.

You're toast if you keep this up, Morgan! Don't push your luck here. She faintly heard Stella warning her in her mind.

Morgan stumbled forward, passing the corpse of her foe, and then fell to her knees in front of Selene. She was bleeding from the side of her head, but she was breathing. Unconscious, probably from hitting the ground too hard.

She's okay...

Relief washed over her, a feeling that would've brought a grin to her face if she wasn't so wounded and exhausted.

Instead, her eyes fell closed. She finally collapsed.