Rising Kite - A story from the world of HWFWM

There was a curious crowd of onlookers around where Kite and his challenger stood facing each other, having claimed a part of the square which had been formed outside the cliff spire-turned-fortification. Around it were all the parts of the camp which would not be allowed to set up residence within the fortification itself, mostly tents and other temporary buildings. Grim rejoined the rest of his group where they stood as the clash of paths was about to begin.

“Young master, from the situation here I assume that the attempt at evasion didn’t go too well?” he asked Will who stood beside him.

Will sighed. “The disciple is from the Resplendent family.”

“Ah.” Grim said, not needing to hear more to understand. They had been one of the most likely to try some kind of show of force, at least according to the early predictions of the city lord, to gather status for their other ventures. Having outplayed or outmatched the young master’s most reputed chosen companion was but one of many plays they might be aiming for.

“I must admit that I thought it would start earlier.” Will said as the contestants bowed to each other as indicated by honorable conduct.

“The deputy director has wisely kept us all quite busy. This is one of the few places and opportunities for plays such as this, in lulls between fighting and contracts.

But, young master, couldn’t Kite just have refused? I wouldn’t have pictured him as eager for this.”

“They did their research and insulted Walker when Kite was about to withdraw. I think he would have shrugged it off most other days, but as things are, even with knowing Walker lives-”

“-he would not be in the most tolerant state of mind. I understand, young master, and must commend you in that you are progressing well in your perceptive skills.” Grim complimented while a neutral officiator who had been brought in from the adventure society was repeating the terms of the clash.

“They seemed to have researched more than just potential trigger-points too. From what I remember, Resplendent Evening Mist is a magical skirmisher who is excellent at keeping his distance while whittling down his opponents.”

“Hmm…” Grim said, concern creasing his brows. “That is an unfortunate matchup for young Kite. Are you worried about the results?”

“I’m more worried about Kite himself after he wipes the floor with the disciple.” Will chuckled, but his eyes remained serious. “He is usually quite unflappable. We can all be goaded into rashness at times, but the games of the mighty are better than most at having people do things and act in ways that they normally would not. And Kite is new to this. I worry more about his recrimination against himself.

Even before the expedition started, I wouldn’t have been worried. It would have been a bit rougher, but he would have won. Now, after the beast horde and that bronze-ranker who injured you…” Will said, trailing off as the officiator called a start to the clash.

“Begin!”

As the officiator started the bout, disciple Mist sprung into the air as misty platforms started appearing beneath the soles of his shoes to carry his steps through the air. He did not immediately attack, however, and neither did Kite who had sunk into a combat stance.

During the formalities, Kite had gotten a better look at his opponent. A young elven man with dark blue hair and rather fine, beautiful features. He had not spoken more than the required phrases during the formalities, and while his words and actions earlier had been openly taunting, Kite thought that he could detect a hint of caution in the man’s features. He did not underestimate Kite, or at least not as much as some of Kite’s earlier challengers.

Still, he apparently felt the need to do some taunting, but Kite thought that this as well was for the benefit of the crowd rather than Kite. Even so, the words were like throwing sticks on a fire, making his rage burn even steadier.

“Unfortunately, outcast, you lost as soon as you accepted the challenge. My path of elusive mists is simply in a different league than your own base attempts.” he stated loudly, following the words with an opening salvo of pale motes of light which shot towards Kite.

Kite’s only response was to bring up his barrier which absorbed the probing attacks, as well as the twin vortices of Spirit singularity, whose invisible attention started to drain the disciple’s mana. The young man kept his facade well, but a perceptive observer could glean a slight tightening around the jaw as, barring the right mana recovery powers, Kite had essentially put a timer on the battle. The disciple being an elf would help however, due to their larger mana pools.

Disciple Mist continued to step through the air, gradually gaining altitude as he harassed Kite with more ranged attacks in such frequency that Kite started complementing his barriers with dodges, still not responding with an attack. Outwardly, he seemed to be cooly observing his foe, but inwardly, he was readying himself. Just the other day, he had thought that he would need to try out his new racial gift evolution. With someone. Or on someone.

Deflecting another launched attack, Kite stepped forward as he flicked his wrist to send his throwing star flying toward the disciple. The young elf nimbly sprang to the side, landing in the air and pirouetting into another leap to whirl out of the way of an arrow which Kite let loose even as the thrown weapon was still in flight.

“Have you realized the futility of your situatio-” disciple Mist began calling out as he came out of the spin, still standing on the empty air, only for a loud *snap* to echo through the plaza. As he spun, he had not seen the staff which had appeared in Kite’s hands already in full swing, and neither had he seen the ripple in space which had appeared as the strike ignored the distance guided by Kite’s intent. But he did see the leg he had just started to land on, where the knee bent the wrong way. And his mind vaguely recognized that his two active boons, a damage ramping ability and his air-traversing step, winked out.

The taunt was transformed into a shriek of pain as he started falling. But even through the disorienting agony, disciple Mist’s subconscious managed to activate his slow-fall power as tendrils of vapor appeared around him to turn his plummet into a gentle glide. But against Kite at this very moment, he might have wished that he hadn’t.

As Kite’s foe had now begun a steady descent, Kite instead whipped out his spear, sweeping upward with the shaft and once more guiding the strike. True to his motion, the blow hit the disciple from below, making him wheeze and cough. The projected strike did indeed carry the same direction and quality as the original.

The spear disappearing back into the void, a katar instead appeared as he jabbed outward. The stabbing motion struck where he intended as well as it scored the disciple’s thigh, although Kite realized that he could easily miss if he did not account for the slight delay which seemed to depend on the distance he wanted to project his attack.

Apparently seeking a reprieve from the onslaught, the young man managed to scream “Form of mist!”, his form dissolving into incorporeal vapor.

“Dissolve the patterns of power.” was Kite’s chilly response, the disciple reverting to his original state as the faint ripple washed over him, quickly followed by a throwing star. Kite had to admit that he was curious how this one would play out as the range attack was projected as well. The spinning projectile traveled a short distance during the normal delay of the projected attack, before suddenly seemingly ricocheting back from empty air as the intent drove home its effect. Ah, so it essentially let the impact close the distance faster than the projectile itself. This might make ranged weapons less distinct tools in his arsenal.

He repeated some more variations to get a feel for them as his foe closed in on the ground, finishing off by conjuring his walls of force around the young man and attempting to strike through it. It did not work, however, even though he could see his opponent. At least for now, the attack needed an unhindered path.

As his opponent touched the ground, still prone and showing only small movement, Kite was about to close in for the finisher. When he came closer and actually got a proper look at disciple Mist, it was as if the fury inside was doused beneath a wet blanket.

The young man was beaten, bruised and partially broken. His shattered knee was the most severe injury, but he also had several cuts and at least a couple of broken fingers from when Kite had employed the flat side of his greatsword. The eye not swollen shut looked at Kite in fear, the same emotion roiling of his aura as he still wheezed and coughed from the air being driven out of his lungs.

Kite had hurt other beings before, both man and monster. And hurt them a lot worse than this. But so far, he had not hurt them just because he was angry with them. He had fought out of fear, desperation and necessity. To protect or put down monsters before they hurt others. He had even fought for fun and challenge, mostly in sparring with Dragonfly or Will. But Kite could not remember ever hurting another person like this from fury alone.

‘Think before you act’ and ‘your emotions are always a dual edged blade. As with any blade, it will help and care for you if you treat and use it properly, and be used against you if not'. Two of auntie Crow’s favorite sayings. Kite thought he had done well to live by them so far, but the disciple had gotten through to him and said just the right thing to make him heed that frustration who just wanted to be vented, to be used.

He wanted to think that most people harbored such feelings and uglier impulses which one might be tempted to take out on those around them. Kite had already met plenty who did, after all. But he wanted to be better than that, to be reasonable even in a world that often wasn’t. And apparently still wasn’t done learning how.

“Do you yield?” He asked the struggling disciple. The young elf swallowed a few times before he finally managed to nod clearly enough as the officiator closed out the clash.

As his opponent lay there, Kite spoke, loud enough to be heard by the onlookers.

“I do not know why my path and I have been considered unworthy by you and your sect, but know that I respect the students of the Descending Star sect for their dedication in this war against our enemies. I hereby rescind my demand for loud proclamations of inferiority, recognizing that it was a demand unworthy of these proceedings. Let… Let this be a lesson for us both in why one should act.”

He then turned and left, walking back towards his group who formed up around him as they left the plaza beneath the main entrance to the spire. The ground around the formerly empty cliff had quickly become a small settlement of tents and temporary buildings, and they decided to settle down at the edge of the settled area where an enterprising cook had set up a small but simple outdoor eatery.

Kite slumped into his seat with a sigh as his group sat down around him, gaze forlorn and mind already swimming with recrimination.

“Kite, my friend, why so dour? That was an excellent showing, both during and after. It was very merciful of you to give your opponent face even in his defeat.” Will exclaimed as he sat down beside Kite while Grim gave his young charge an assessing look at his words.

Kite looked at his friends, emotionally weary. “Honestly, that was mostly stupid. Stupid to let myself be goaded into it, and even more so to ask for such a prize. And the way I did it-”

“It's not like their way and demands were any better though.” Dragonfly replied, eyebrows creased. “Don’t many in the sects ask for things like that all the time? And act even worse? I know you’ve heard the rumors”

“If I may answer that, young Dragonfly, I believe Kite recognized that by matching them in intent and level he has essentially allowed himself to be drawn into their games.” Grim said, politely making his way into the conversation.

Kite nodded with a sigh. “I think so, at least from what you’ve taught me, Will. And it just felt wrong, at least afterwards, like I was just using it as a reason to be petty. And I was so angry. Still am, in a way. ”

“Well I think he earned it, the way he spoke about Walker.” Dragonfly grumbled. While Kite felt a twinge of appreciation at her anger at the insult, it did little to quell the concern and shame inside.

“I do think it might have been a wise move there at the end, Kite, to lessen the impact a bit to the merely monetary and influential.” Grim praised while he started pouring them all drinks from a flask brought by a server, the habits of a manservant obvious even in what was essentially a war camp.

“I have a feeling that it will not have been enough. Not nearly. I will surely see more of those kinds of challenges before this is done. Their collective pride tends to be quite brittle, and I basically took a hammer to it.” Kite grumbled, before looking at Will. “Am I wrong, or was that mainly for your benefit, and that of politics?”

Will looked chagrined. “I believe so. The Resplendent family has been gathering momentum lately, and showing off their scion’s prowess and furthering their ties to the sect is but one of their avenues of ambition. I did warn you that associating with me might bring trouble.”

“Well, then send them to me instead! I won’t mind clobbering a few of them.” Dragonfly exclaimed, eager. “I’m even stronger when I’m angry! Or at least when my soul is.”

“Kite has the dubious honor of being a bit famous after his adventure at the gate, so I would imagine that it will remain he who will bear the brunt of these challenges, especially as all who have challenged him so far have failed. The last one spectacularly so, even though they thought they had him figured out.” Will said to Dragonfly’s grumbling dismay.

“And now they know about my newly evolved ability as well, at least enough to speculate. The next one won’t be unprepared.” Kite sighed.

“One’s path is tempered through adversity and strife. Thus does it gain the strength to carry oneself towards the heavens.” Grim answered sagely, speaking the same quote which uncle Walker had often used during Kite’s training.

Sighing, Kite nodded. “I must admit that losing and being forced to do whatever tickles the pride of that particular challenger doesn’t sound very appealing. I will try my best to not be goaded again, but I will stand up for what is important to me when at all possible. But… not like that. ” he answered, but sounding bit less dejected than before.

“Now that is the resolute Kite we know.” Will cheered. “Mistakes happen, my friend. And I must admit that it is quite entertaining watching people break their paths against yours.”

“Maybe we should start betting and earning some money on him?” Dragonfly added cheerfully. “Why not profit from it if it's going to happen anyway?”

The conversation, now thoroughly derailed, remained light for a while and allowed Kite to distract himself a bit from the lingering shame and concern that remained. Deeming that the pleasantries had gone on for long enough, Grim called on their attention with a light projection of his aura.

“I would like to return focus to our upcoming war-contract.” he said with his usual tone of stark professionalism as he laid a scroll on the table and Serene double-checked her soundproofing around them.

“We are to act as a part of the peripheral sweep, assisting the more dedicated teams scouting for enemy activity. It is highly unlikely that our enemies would have given up, and neither have our side. But between the greater pushes and plans, there are a myriad of small moves that are just as important to prevent us from being outmaneuvered.” Grim said, emphasizing the last part as he saw Will’s dejected look at what sounded a lot like patrolling duty.

“When do we leave?” Kite asked as he leaned forward to view that map Grim presented to them. Unlike Will, he felt that a stint of calmer contracts might be a good way to consolidate his new advancements and center himself, as well as wait for uncle Walker’s return.

“In just a few hours. Even though it might be more comfortable, I thought it best to head toward our rendezvous with the other scouting team instead of remaining and risking more… delays.” Grim finished, with a meaningful look at Kite.

“Heaven’s damn you, old fool. You should have just stayed put and holed up for a while longer.” Walker mentally chastised himself from where he was currently enveloped in a bushel of ferns near the base of a tree. Around him there were groups of enemies moving eastward, mostly iron-rankers with a few bronze here and there.

While Walker held his aura tight around himself in addition to the stealth powers he employed, he could still get a feeling of the enemies individual power through his now silver-ranked perception power which let him sense through nearby plants. It was those subtle tendrils that let him sense something else as well, the sensation sending shivers down his spine as he recognized the feeling of a silver-ranked aura, albeit further away into the forest. Their enemies were apparently moving in force.

“I have to get what word I can back.” he thought to himself as he was already mentally trying to get a feel for the number of foes moving through the woods. But what was their objective? He imagined it to be some kind of push, but he also thought that it probably couldn’t be as simple as that.

As the nearest groups had moved on, Walker melted into the ferns and emerged from the canopy of another tree, further away. He still felt unbalanced by the lack of his left arm, and therefore moved more gingerly than usual as he started moving through the forest with the lesser of the enemy warriors at the very edge of his plant-assisted perception.

Walker would get to the bottom of this, especially as they were moving in the same direction as him already. This old scout wouldn’t be shown up by these deviants in his own domain, after all. Settling in for the patient approach and preparing for a tense few days ahead of him, Walker still couldn’t help feeling alive out there among the bushes, trees and moss. It felt good returning to the role of the hunter.

“Would you kindly demonstrate it again, Kite?” Braid asked eagerly, the man’s interest plain even through the cloth mask which obscured the bronze-rankers whole face, the fabric fitted quite snugly around his face to give a hint of its shape below. The smooth silk had intricate embroideries in abstract patterns, forming what Kite had discovered to be small formations too complex for Kite to understand. The rest of his robes, the clothing being dyed in different pale pastel colors, seemed to be equally adorned.

“Of course.” Kite responded as faintly glowing threads once again wove through the soil below, before detaching to form a simple formation, one which Kite could identify. It was a simple and robust alarm formation, now sunk into the ground not far from the heating lamp in the center of their camp for the night.. Focusing to get a feeling for the pattern, his perception power making it much easier than it had been during his training under auntie Crow, Kite chose a point where several of the core lines intersected and struck out with an extended finger against it. Upon contact, his Disrupting strike delivered its usual dispelling effect, cancelling the magical flow in that area and causing the formation to flicker and die out.

“Most fascinating, and the results are both replicable and conclusive. You, Kite, are a most fortuitous encounter for me. Most fortuitous indeed!” the man exclaimed happily while threads were already weaving through a paper held in one of his hands forming words.

“Braiiiid, are you bothering Kite again, hmm~?” said a singsong voice as a woman suddenly appeared behind Braid, leaning forwards with her elbows on the seated man’s shoulders. Her name was Wander, and she was a human woman with short brown hair in a crew cut. Kite had met both her and Braid before, but only in passing during the nightly raid in the city a few weeks ago, as she had rather quickly dissolved into a swarm of rats in pursuit of the escaped bronze-ranker.

“I assure you, it is no trouble. It is very fascinating, after all.” Kite replied in assurance with a smile.

The last three days had indeed been a lot calmer than their initial deployment, as the group had joined up with another team of more dedicated scouts and specialists where the group had recognized the two bronze-rankers in command. While they had so far not run into any activity from their enemies, there had still been some run-ins with a few groups of monsters which they had taken the time to dispatch, some even manifesting due to the proximity of Sage. Kite thought he had noticed an increase in the manifestations from the familiar over the last months, and had wondered with a mix of excitement and trepidation what bronze-rank would hold in store for them.

So far, the bronze-rankers had let the young ones handle the monsters, and one such fight against a group of plant elementals had caused Kite to catch the scholarly eye of Braid, who was a formations expert working with magical threads to shape and disrupt such arcane patterns. As they had made camp that evening out in the forested wilderness, he had been approached by the polite if eager man, who was curious to see what effects Kite’s dispelling and disrupting abilities would have on magical formations.

“I must admit that I had not tried their effects on something as complex as formations.” Kite admitted, fascinated that his attack had done anything at all. “So far, they haven’t impacted actual enchanted gear, only conjured. So I never thought to check. My auntie would be quite cross with me that I neglected that kind of experimentation.”

“You know a formation master?” Braid asked, curiosity burning ever brighter. “Who? Someone local? It might be someone I know! Any hallmarks of thei-”

“Braaaaaiid, if you just continue asking more questions, Kite will have no time to actually answer~.” Wander said while reaching down and flicking his nose through the cloth mask. In response, a single thread shot up from Braid’s collar and tried to wrap itself around the offending finger. But even though the slightly growing thread was very fast, it still failed to catch the giggling woman as she let her hand lead the thread on a merry chase above her companion’s head.

“I do know one.” Kite said, taking the opening provided by Wander. “She is my auntie, Curious Crow flies Swift. But she mostly works out of Starberry peak, up north.”

“You know Curious Crow flies Swift? The mistress Crow? Who wrote the ‘Practical Guide to Fiber-based Formations’?” Braid almost shouted, the chasing of Wander’s finger completely forgotten to the woman’s pouting disappointment.

“Uhm. Yes, I do think so. I didn’t know she had written it though, only that I’ve seen it at home along with her other books.”

“You have been to her home?!”

“Uhm, yes. Many, many times. I lived there for all my life. With her and auntie Dove.” Kite said, smiling slightly in both amusement and disbelief as his statement seemed to break something inside the other man, his facial expressions surprisingly easy to read even through the cloth mask.

“So you are basically… her family?” Braid asked, words half-whispered through his semi-paralyzed state.

“Oh yes. She is my mother in all but blood. But I’ve always called her auntie.”

“Kite. Your auntie is a wonder, a marvel, a visionary. Without her book, I’d- I wouldn’t- No- Wander-wait-” Braid stammered, surprisingly emotional before suddenly being interrupted. Unnoticed by them both, the bronze-ranker had suddenly been surrounded by a swarm of brown rats, the interruption occurring as he was lifted up on a sheet of small, furry backs and carried off into the dark woods surprisingly swiftly, his voiced protests quickly growing faint.

“Well, I couldn’t in good conscience let that continue for too long~-” A familiar voice squeaked from the lone remaining rat who had plopped down in a seated position near Kite in the same spot Braid had previously occupied.

As he got a better look at a single individual of the swarm, Kite thought that this was probably the first time he had seen a rat which looked pretty, its brown fur all soft and lustrous. But he supposed he had never seen a bronze-ranked rat before.

“Braid is nice, but once he starts going about that book and his work, his enthusiasm is a bit much~” the rat said in the same singsong tone. “Can’t have him scaring you off~.”

“Well, I didn’t lie when I said it was actually interesting. My abilities seem to at least partially interact with formations, but to a more limited degree. It's like the magic is more… firm, or ingrained. I can dispel part of it, but not everything, at least not with Braid’s work.” Kite explained, the other man’s enthusiasm lingering even after his involuntary departure.

“While it's good that you like exploring and experimenting with it, my advice would be to take a break every now and then and leave him wanting more. That makes him much more manageable~.” Wander squeaked, her tone indicating that it was most sage advice he had been given.

“I will strive to live by your words.” he smiled. “But I do think I’ve been impolite and never properly introduced myself. My name is Kite flown in on Wings of Fortune, but please continue calling me Kite.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I already knew, so I never thought to tell you mine~.” the rat squeaked with a small bow of apology. “My name is They who Wander, but just Wander is fine~.”

The evening remained pleasant as the others soon joined Kite and Wander where they sat, and Braid eventually slunk out of the forest with rats hitching a ride all over his robes. Kite took his time and let the feeling of camaraderie help wash away a bit of the lingering frustrations, almost absent-mindedly checking the tracking stone, and often repeated motion during the last few days.

This night, he had to do a double take, gazing more intently at the stone and the small dot near its edge. A dot that had grown substantially bigger since last he checked. As Kite looked at it, he could even see it visibly shift to the side a bit. Uncle Walker was closer. Much closer.

“I have a request!”

The conversations around the camp died abruptly as Kite had suddenly stood bolt upright, declaring his exclamation loudly enough for all to hear. In the silence that followed, Kite briskly walked over to where the three bronze-rankers; Grim, Braid and Wander, sat in discussion while perusing their map. The three looked down at the stone Kite put down on top of the unfurled scroll, then back up at Kite.

“Could we please plan our next sweep towards the signal from this tracking stone?” Kite asked, the words almost tumbling from his lips as he bowed deeply towards the three.

Braid and Wander had shifted their gazes to look at Grim, the only one who continued to look straight at Kite in the short silence that followed.

“Fellow iron-ranker, maybe we should leave those of higher station to make their own council?” one of the iron-rankers under the command of Braid and Wander said, rising as if to guide Kite away from the gathered group. “Come join me, I have some drink. Let’s not-”

“I find it an acceptable notion.” Grim stated with his usual decorum. “The direction should still be within our designated area.”

Braid looked at Wander, who shrugged, before he spoke. “Then we will not oppose it. But please Kite, join us and tell us what this is about. And maybe some more about your aun- ooowww.” The last part was more of a whine as Braid was suddenly cradling his left hand as if it had been bitten. Which it probably had.

“Yes, Kite. Please join us and explain~.” Wander answered, inviting Kite to sit down.

The pair listened as Kite gave them a summary of their last contract and Walker’s disappearance, Grim supplying some additional clarifications.

“-and as the marker is now moving and indicating proximity, I request for us to plan our route toward it as much as possible. It- it would mean a lot to me.” Kite finished. He had tried keeping his tone level and measured, but had no doubt that his emotional investment was obvious to any observer.

“I don’t foresee many problems, as long as we don’t stray too far from our designated area.” Braid said thoughtfully, as Wander nodded along.

“Besides, we should try and extract our own. I’ve heard of Walker. He sounds like a good guy~.”

“Then it is settled. It would indeed be most satisfactory if we could reunite with him.” Grim nodded in ascent as well.

Kite’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you. Truly, I am in your debt.”

Unseen by Kite, Wander’s foot once more transformed to the front half of a rat and bit Braid in the toe to forestall immediate collection of said debt. The young iron-ranker was having a moment, so balancing out their karma could wait.

“Well, that can’t be good…”

Walker was nowhere near a formation expert, but when what he assumed to be blood cultists led work to clear a small plot of land from plant and other debris and started drawing out a huge ritual circle, he would assume that something nasty was happening.

“And this is only one of the peripheral groups. Whatever could the rest be up to?” the thought to himself from his hidden vantage as he surveyed the groups in the light of the morning. Walker counted three bronze-rankers and about a dozen iron, the same group he had been following for days now. They had started producing a small camp from dimensional bags, as well as the materials for their rituals. Two of them, one iron and one bronze-ranker, had even begun to set up defensive formations around the area.

From Walker's internal map, and he had become very adept at that particular mental exercise over the years, they should only be a couple of days out from the three strongholds.

“This is probably a staging ground. They are planning to attempt something more decisive.” Walker thought with concern. It was a shame that they were too numerous and that he was still injured. Taking out just one of these might make an actual difference. Still, the society needed to know as soon as possible. He’d just have to settle with reporting and-

Simultaneously, both the defensive formations that the two cultists were working on violently blew up. The iron-ranker was slain instantly while the bronze still got half her face melted by the destructive discharge, staggering back clasping her face. “One could be happenstance,” Walker thought”, but two…”

As the rest of the cultists started scrambling to understand what happened, clearly understanding that something was wrong, heaven's punishment was unleashed upon them.

From around the clearing, glass shards started tearing into one of the bronze-rankers who had reacted the fastest, immediately starting to draw out a smaller summoning circle. His efforts was hampered as his skin got shredded and he was forced to dissolve himself into a blood mist, the defensive measure preserving his health but putting him on the defensive.

Then other figures were moving into the clearing, clearly adventurers from their eclectic appearance, and started engaging the different iron-rankers. The bronze-ranker which had been damaged by the formation-mishap looked to have just about snapped out of her daze as several glowing threads shot out from between the trees, the thin fibers easily piercing through her body in several places as a robed and masked figure followed them out into the clearing.

Neither thread was that damaging in and of itself, but their controller seemed to gather them all up between their fingers and making a series of complex motions. Walker got a trip down memory lane back to his childhood and the cat’s cradles he used to form along with his friends. Only a heartbeat or two later, the resulting pattern was a different beast entirely from the simple geometric shapes, cups and hourglasses formed by children playing. It almost looked like…

“A ritual circle?” Walker thought to himself, his guess apparently not too far off as it was apparently completed, harnessing crackling lightning which traveled from the woven circle along the threads and into the tangled cultist's body. The result of that was quite a lot more damaging.

In the center of the camp, the final bronze-ranked cultist just managed to unleash some kind of blood-frenzy boon which flowed over her allies, but further intervention was interrupted as a swarm of rats exuding a bronze-ranked aura flowed up from the grass beneath her feet, quickly covering her in a writhing mass of claws and teeth.

It was only then that Walker’s mind seemed to recognize the song which had suffused the clearing, starting out as a subtle hum but rising in strength.

“Wait, is it-”

The last wave of adventurers broke through the treeline, Dragonfly entering like a comet trailing pink hair, axe already raised high, Will at her side carried forward by ‘wings’ of glowing spears. They both crashed into their enemies, increasing the havoc manifold through their destructive paths.

And finally, Walker saw his boy. Little Kite, although Walker had to admit that he no longer felt as small, came charging in the wake of his friends and to Walker’s surprise drew his staff and swung while still meters away from one of his targets. Only an instant later, the cultist was flung aside as if struck by a charging root-slinger rhino.

“The boy apparently got some new tricks up his sleeve.” Walker thought, relief at seeing him and the rest safe. Or at least as safe as they could be when ambushing enemy blood cultists deep in the forests of rural Hua-Xi.

As he rose from his crouching position on the tree branch, leaves of every color started appearing in the air around Walker as he leapt out to join the fray.

“Can’t allow myself to be completely shown up by the youngsters. What kind of mentor would that make me?” he thought to himself while airborne, before he descended into the chaos of conflict once again.