Scorching Ascension - [Progression Litrpg Apocalypse]

Ethan took a second to consider what to do with the pylon, and it didn't take long at all.

He wasn't integrating it. That was right out. The camp had too much negativity associated with it and even though Ethan didn't usually believe in haunted houses and Feng Shui and all that, the area just had bad juju. If people settled in this place and if they started having weird nightmares and growing third eyes, then Ethan wouldn't be surprised. Which, he guessed, kinda made him a little superstitious. Especially now that magic was a thing.

Ethan blinked. "Wait… are haunted houses about to become a real thing?"

He looked behind him at the remains of the tier-2. If body horror and eldritch nonsense were on the table, then why wouldn't ghosts and specters?

A shudder ran down his spine, as, for a moment, he pictured those he'd just killed standing around him, staring at him with their dead, lifeless eyes, faces contorted with malice and anger.

Ethan shook his head. "Maybe don't enable psychopaths and use innocent people as cattle if you want to stay alive," he mumbled, turning his attention back to the pylon options as he selected the second option.

Better not to dwell on it too much for now.

The pylon pulsed, and the bright purple lights began to drain off of the top, coalescing lower into the pole. The now dull crystalline parts near the top and bottom began cracking, spider-web like fissures forming with every pulse, until, with one final shudder, the whole pylon shattered into dull, gray motes that dissolved away into the air, leaving one vivid, purple hand-size cube floating in front of him.

Ethan plucked it out of the air and tried to shove it in the dimensional pouch, fully expecting it to reject it, but the cube plopped within it with no problems.

"Great. I guess it's not as heavy as a full pylon."

Clapping his hands, he turned toward the movements in the distance, wings spreading behind him.

It was time to see what this was about.

***

Marc POV

Marc stood still in a sea of pained moans and rasps as he stared at the flashing lights beyond the walls of the settlement. Every few seconds, a thud would reach his ears as more and more of the refugees passed out and by now, at least a quarter were out cold, with Imani standing over them, green smoke billowing out of her thin frame, head whipping about at the outstretched hands. She looked tired from having to speed them up all the way here, but then again, she was the second highest level in their camp. If there was anyone who could handle such stress, it was her. They had met up with her by chance, actually, right on the edges of their own settlement, and when she'd heard what was happening, she insisted on coming along, just in case the refugees or this Ethan fellow needed backup.

"If you can stand, then you don't need my help," she shouted as one of the refugees tried to step into her green smoke. "I know you need help, but they need it more. Be patient. Taylor, bring that one over. Dwayne, keep the rest away. I don't know how long I have to keep these ones alive."

Thankfully, it wasn't too hard to keep the desperate ones out of the rejuvenating smoke generated by Imani. With how weakened they were, even a level-less child could push them away, much less someone like Dwayne. It wasn't that they didn't want to heal the poor souls, it was just that they had no clue how long Imani had to keep her magic going, and there was only so many of them she could keep supporting.

Taylor laid the passed out woman at Imani's feet, face twisted in disgust at the glowing ghostly worm and hopped away out of the healer's circle. She glanced at the walls, crystalline fists clenched at her side. "We should go help him."

Dwayne's smile was pained as he gently barred the way to another haggard looking man. He mumbled something, and the man stepped back, face ashen. Dwayne glanced back toward Taylor. "Help him? You already came around?"

The corner of Marc's lips lifted, eyes still watching the settlement. "She was just mad she got knocked out by a healer."

Taylor pursed her lips. "That girl was not a dedicated healer. Not like Imani or Gavin. And if it hadn't been for the goat-legged man with her, we would have won."

"But you still lost against her," teased Dwayne, and before Taylor could respond, a large explosion flashed from behind the wall, coloring the sky red for a half a second before the crack reached their ears.

"I think he might manage it. Look. They stopped falling over," Marc said. It meant that the draw on their resources had lessened. Which should be a good sign, considering the explosion.

Unless that abomination was winning?

The refugees seemed surprised, and hope bloomed on their features. A few still tried to grasp at the disgusting parasite stuck to their chest, but unfortunately, they were all just too low-level to resist the magic.

Glancing at Imani, he found her still standing there, sweat beading on her brow, eyes closed as green vapor coiled around her. The dark skin of her arms had taken on a smooth, ceramic sheen, faintly traced with glowing lines. Along the sides of her forearms, narrow vents ringed with gold released steady bursts of warm mist, flooding the air with a vivid green glow and the scent of fresh-cut grass.

Then it happened.

There was a cry of surprise, followed by a sob of relief as one of the fleshy purple worms hanging on to a short, gaunt middle-aged woman broke down into motes. She stood there, laughing and sobbing in turns, shaking in clothes that looked too big for her.

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Then more of them broke down. Both the people who'd been used and abused, as well as the magic of the eldritch administrator.

"He did it?"

Taylor was shocked, and so was Dwayne. When they'd seen the refugees, they thought he had a good shot at winning, but it was still in doubt. After all, there were a couple of hundreds of people feeding that monster mana and lifeforce. Low-level, sure, but still. It shouldn't have been an easy fight, and considering what he'd heard about the effect of the eldritch magic…

Suffice it to say, Marc was not as optimistic as Dwayne had been. He had given Ethan around 30% chance of victory, in a long, drawn out fight.

Instead, it seemed the whole thing had lasted five minutes.

"I guess quality does win over quantity…" Marc mumbled as everyone stared at the smoke rising in the distance.

Ethan had won.

A few minutes later, Imani could afford to stop her healing magic. With the drain on her patients cut-off, those who had passed out woke back within minutes of their parasites disappearing. As for the rest, it seemed like every few minutes that went by brought back some of the life in their eyes. They would need days to recover, but they weren't at death's door anymore.

"He's done with the pylon. He's coming," Marc announced as soon as he saw the wings spread behind Ethan's back, right after the pylon had cracked into motes.

"Some people aren't going to be happy," Imani said. Marc nodded, but he didn't believe it would matter, and he didn't even need to say much, as Dwayne's next words covered what he thought pretty well.

"He kept to his word. And he saved these people. Singlehandedly. Frankly, with people like him around, I'd rather be in his camp than against him. Marcello and Sophia might not like it, but Gavin probably will. In any case, he's got my vote."

"We'll see," said Imani as she watched the figure approach, and as he, watched her.

Marc was almost sure she'd vote in favor as well.

***

Ethan quickly recognized the observers as he floated down. "They got here fast."

It was Dwayne, and the two people who'd met his eyes in their last meeting. The observant young man and the girl with the stubby crystalline horns who seemed to have a matching pair of hands that fit the theme.

Ethan wondered what bonus would a crystalline spellform set give to her. Did she have enough crystalline spells to activate it? Or was it her Prime Arcanum?

Those two look like Enhancer spellforms… unless the hands are an armament?

Shaking his head, he focused once more on his surroundings as he began his descent. He'd figure the answer to that some other time. For now, he had people to talk to, and while the refugees were giving him looks that made him want to fly away, Ethan finally looked at the last individual he didn't recognize.

[Human (I) - Level 67]

She was a tall woman, with frizzy hair tied back, and glancing down, Ethan noticed the golden lines and the vents along the edges of her forearms. The effect of the spellform made him think of those cool and thin robots one would see on tv though in this case, it was a robot made of porcelain instead of metal. Or ceramics.

She was giving him an even look that didn't betray her thoughts, and as he landed a short distance away, he looked away from the stranger and gave Dwayne a nod. "The administrator is dealt with. Same for their soldiers and the armadillo-man. But there's one that ran. Short brown hair. Uses a crossbow. High sixties."

Dwayne frowned and glanced at Marc who stared up in the air for a second before speaking. "I think that one's name is Roland," he said. "He's the one they sent to ask for our surrender. Slimy."

Ethan nodded. "Yeah. He got away. He took a couple of shots at me before he ran though, so… keep an eye out."

Dwayne nodded before glancing at the fourth individual who gave the tall man and brief nod, at which point Dwayne clapped. "Well, let's take these guys to camp. I guess you'll want to come with us to meet Gavin?"

"Did you get a chance to speak with him?"

They had gotten here awfully fast. Ethan would be surprised if they'd actually spoken.

Dayne shook his head. "No. Sorry. We were going to, but we met Imani here. She's one of the leaders, and when she'd heard about what was going on, she insisted we come to help."

Ethan kept his face neutral, though he wasn't sure how to feel about this last minute change of plan. But he didn't want to be too paranoid about things, so he might as well go with things. In any case, it wasn't as if he couldn't fly away at any time if things got weird.

Though if they're planning a double-cross, I'll have to be careful not to injure the poor bastards around us…

Ethan pushed the thought away. He was probably overthinking it. Meeting Dwayne and Imani's eyes, he nodded. "Lead the way."

Within moments, they all began walking east, and Ethan was wondering if he'd soon have the ability to summon Amanda and have her deal with things like this when something gripped him by the back of the shirt.

He tensed, and there was an impulse to whirl back, but he managed to clamp down the reflex and instead, he slowly turned.

It was a young girl. Sixteen or seventeen maybe, though the weight loss made her look fourteen at best. She was holding the hand of a younger boy, her sibling, and both of them looked up at him with wide eyes. When he turned, she let go of his shirt, freezing for a moment. She swallowed, then spoke. The first time, no sound came out, but the second he could hear a raspy, squeaky voice. "Thank you."

Ethan blinked, his thoughts halting for a second. It took him a moment to process it, and all around, the other refugees repeated the words.

He… didn't know how to feel about this.

Ethan had killed a person. Multiple people. He wasn't feeling much of anything about them, considering what they'd been up to and what they allowed to happen, but these two words uttered by the poor girl were like a gut punch. Taking a deep breath, Ethan nodded and smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't get here faster," he said, and he meant. But now that he was the center of attention, he really wanted to leave. Which was when he had an idea.

Ethan looked down at the girl and her brother, and he grinned. "Do you two like flying?"