The Ruby Magician

Wyn’s skill had worn off but he still had around half of his mana remaining. His original plan was to conserve his mana and save it when needed, but all the monsters in the room had been defeated and the guardian was now dead. All that remained now were the invaders.

The invaders being Lionel and whoever he brought from his mysterious organization.

They were the last challenge to face. Wyn no longer needed to hold back - it was kill or be killed. He’d been in this situation before. Brutality reared its ugly head like nothing else when your life hung in the balance. He’d seen men and women do horrible things just so they were the one who walked away instead of their opponent.

Killing monsters in the tower was one matter, but fighting against people was another entirely. He didn’t know if his teammates had had to deal with it before, but after today they’d join his ranks whether they wanted to or not.

Looking into the eyes of the three enemies, Wyn knew they’d already joined him.

They were dangerous. But so was he.

Some of his soldiers had fallen under his leadership before, but not again. Never again. He’d give his own life before that happened. Now, though, he possessed magic to help his cause.

A feeling of confidence swelled up within him. His group may not have the experience of fighting humans to the death, but they had the advantage of numbers. Now they just had to survive whatever magic their opponents used.

Wyn already gave his orders. They split apart immediately, Marcy firing arrow after arrow at the group to divide their attention. Cal rushed the far left, yelling like Wyn had never heard him before. He cleared the distance in seconds, and his hammer swung through the air with a fierce speed directly over the shorter person.

The hooded figure didn’t move, only held a hand out in front of them.

Between them, though, rose a circular pillar of earth a foot wide that absorbed the hammer’s blow. It wasn’t nearly strong enough of a defense as it exploded from the impact, sending shards and small pieces of rubble in all directions.

The shorter person grunted as they were littered with stones, stumbling backwards from the unexpected result.

Cal didn’t let up, pushing past the stone rubble to continue his assault, but was interrupted from Lionel lashing out with his flaming sword. A loud clang reverberated through the hall as John’s sword crackling with lightning stopped it dead, intercepting the strike.

“Go!” John yelled. “He’s mine.”

Cal pushed off to the side as a blue arrow whizzed by his head, a trail of cold flying behind it. The shorter enemy recovered and formed another black rune in the air like a shield. The iced arrow disappeared through the rune as though it was shot into the night sky, gone from sight.

Another arrow flew towards them but struck the stone floor directly in front of the runic circle. A whirlwind stirred up instantaneously, the force causing broken rock to fly around like a miniature tornado. Cal stumbled back from the strength of the magical impact.

The person yelped in pained surprise, their hooded cloak flying away as they tumbled back hard on the ground. They slowly rose to one knee, brushing long, black hair out of their eyes. She then wiped the back of her hand against her bleeding mouth, steely grey eyes widening in angered surprise.

Across the chamber, a flash of lightning arced through the air, streaking from Cedric’s scepter towards the larger brute with a boom that echoed off the walls.

Wyn lurched to the side from the sight and sound of the spell, surprised by the strength Cedric produced. He was nearly to the large figure but stopped just short when the lightning whizzed by him.

The figure took the spell directly in the chest, though didn’t so much as recoil from the magical power. Their cloak flew back, though, revealing a hefty man with a bulk that made Cal seem small. He wore a heavy beard with short hair, and his torso was completely covered in thick scaled armor. A wide block of earth crumbled before him, nearly invisible from the cloak but now exposed. It took the entirety of Cedric’s spell and the man didn’t so much as blink.

“Not good,” Cedric said.

The man ripped off his cloak and threw it to the side with a smirk. Runes formed under him on the stone floor, and pieces of stone crawled up his boots, legs and body towards his arms. They covered him from his shoulders to fingers, and he flexed and waved his stone arms with confidence.

Wyn cursed under his breath. His spear wouldn’t do much against a hard defense like that. He’d be better served with Cal’s hammer. The only advantage he had was his weapon’s wind element having the upper hand against the brute’s obvious earth elemental magic. It wasn’t much to rely on, but Wyn’s only choice was to try and test the elemental match up.

In a swift move, Wyn lunged forward with a quick swipe of his spear. There wasn’t much power behind it, but Wyn wanted to see the elemental effect. Tactics could be changed depending on the outcome.

The man dodged the strike to the side, completely avoiding the spearhead.

Wyn blinked in surprise, then regained his footing. He swiped again, this time in a larger arc and with more effort.

The man twisted his body in a way that his bulk shouldn’t have allowed him to move, but the spear still made contact. It felt like striking against a stone wall with a mundane, nonmagical spear. Wyn’s arms vibrated from the hit, and it wasn’t even a firm point of contact.

The man chuckled. “I knew this wouldn’t be too hard against a bunch of rookies. Lionel was right after all.”

Another streak of lightning flew into the man in a flash, but he didn’t so much as blink. The spell was weaker than the last one, too, with less of a flashing light and barely so much as a clap of thunder in after-effect. What was different, though, was that three more followed in quick succession, causing the man to protect his face and neck with his stone-covered arms.

The attack bought Wyn a second to think. His testing confirmed this matchup was not good. Even if his spear was able to slice through those stone arms and whatever else the man created, his scaled chest armor would protect him enough from Wyn’s spear. He had a few spells to help even out the odds, but he wondered how much mana and effort it would take to truly take him out.

A boom across the hall pulled Wyn’s attention for a split second. The brute also looked over, completely ignoring Cedric and Wyn altogether. It seemed as though he didn’t view them as a threat.

Lionel and John were still locked in a duel, trading blows as though nothing else in the world mattered. For John, that much was true, and he was likely blinded to the environment in his rage. Wyn hoped Tasha would make sure he wasn’t harmed by the other two. The two men fought in an ugly, disorganized brawl, more akin to a street fight than swordplay. But they weren’t looking to score points for a tournament. They were both out for blood.

The noise didn’t come from them, to Wyn’s surprise. He realized that Cal and Marcy had the third enemy - a woman - running all over the room, and that the noise was a large, fiery explosion courtesy of Marcy.

“Damnit!” A woman’s voice screamed. “Harold, get that damn Archer already! I can’t do a thing with her blasted arrows!”

The brutish man bolted across the room with surprising speed, splintering stone with each step. He aimed straight for Marcy, closing the distance in seconds.

Marcy stood her ground, drawing a glowing arrow directly at the man.

Harold laughed and raised his stone arms. “You cocky little -”

A large rune suddenly glowed beneath the bulky man’s feet. Multiple strands of thick rope flew out of the magic circle, wrapping around Harold’s entire body. Only small windows of his earth armor and his head were visible, the rest suddenly and completely enveloped in intertwined ropes.

Harold’s smile quickly turned sour. He pulled against the ropes but found no leverage as his arms were tied at his sides and legs held in place like a trapped animal.

Wyn figured the giant of a man would find a way out sooner rather than later, and opted to take advantage of the restraint. He still had no sure idea how to even injure Harold, but he was currently out of their fight. One idea struck him, but it would have to wait. The woman was the next, obvious target.

Wyn likely only had seconds. He doubted he could trust the others to do what was needed, and didn’t want to argue about the amount of lethality needed in this fight. Based on Lionel and John’s engagement, though, it was obvious where their opponents stood.

Wyn silently cast Speed Up on himself, then drew a mana potion as fast as his fingers allowed from his waist. He popped the cork and downed it, anxiety increasing with each second. It wasn’t particularly enjoyable, but wasn’t terrible, either. There wasn’t much flavor to it at all. The worst part was the potion was thick in his mouth and it felt like drinking syrup. If it was more like water he could’ve swallowed it faster, but the thickened liquid took more time than Wyn wanted. Still, he wanted to be sure he could use any spell or skill needed for the minutes ahead. His Lucidity skill wouldn’t recover enough for what he planned to do.

He tossed the empty bottle down and sprinted towards the woman on the other side of the room. She wasn’t terribly far, but there was no hiding his approach.

The woman whipped her head towards him and raised a hand, but Wyn was too fast.

“Flash!” Wyn yelled, hoping the spell was faster than her or that it couldn’t be absorbed. He didn’t know how her magic worked, but the spell wasn’t a direct attack on her. It only coated a certain area in bright light, which hopefully was enough of a distraction.

The woman pulled her arms around her face and cried out in a panicked scream. A large black hole formed in front of her, but she was too slow. The spell lived up to its namesake, starting and finishing before she was able to use her own ability to absorb it.

Wyn immediately dashed around her, hoping to flank her. She knelt, making herself a smaller target while rubbing her face with her forearm. The black hole stayed in front of her, a last minute defense in case more spells came her way.

It didn’t matter.

Wyn stabbed his spear forward as fast as possible, using his speed as increased momentum to drive the weapon through any armor she may be wearing.

His breath caught only once when he realized the spear head completely went through her torso, not encountering any resistance whatsoever. A small part of him was surprised she didn’t wear any armor, but a larger part was grateful she didn’t.

The woman let out a bloodcurdling scream that was quickly drowned out from her coughing up blood.

Wyn twisted his spear as he pulled it back through her, then stabbed higher on her body. He didn’t want any question as to whether she could still use her magic or not - this was the time for finality, not hesitancy.

The woman slumped while the weapon was still piercing through her torso. Wyn saw her body fall lifeless to the ground, blood quickly pooling beneath her from the first wound while his spear stood straight up towards the ceiling.

His heart raced, but he took a deep breath to steady himself. It was never easy taking a life. Magical monsters and creatures didn’t weigh on his conscience, but ending a person’s life was a completely different matter. Memories of war flooded his mind, threatening to take over any moment. His company. His enemies. Cries of rallying and dying soldiers mixed to create a ghastly song in his head.

Wyn slapped himself in the face. “No,” he said, out loud to no one. “Stay away!”

One of those familiar rallying cries pierced his ears. He jerked his head to the source. Harold was straining himself against the ropes, successfully pulling them apart in his anger from his ally dying.

The man stared directly at Wyn, his face blood red and eyes wide. Spittle flew from his mouth like a rabid animal.

One rope snapped. Then another quickly followed, a chain reaction setting off from his rage.

“Marcy, Cal, hit him with everything you got!” Wyn yelled. He yanked his spear free from the dead woman.

Cal stood still, his hammer down by his side. “Wyn, you… you killed her.” His voice hardly carried more than a few feet from him.

Wyn rushed across the room. He ran straight to Cal and pushed him hard in the shoulder. To his credit, the man hardly budged from his armor and size. Wyn stared in the man’s eyes, not bothering to keep his voice calm. “Cal, it’s not the time. We’re next if you don’t act! If you want to be a Climber again, it means doing what’s necessary when the time comes!”

Cal didn’t shift his gaze away from the dead woman.

Wyn stepped around him. There was no point right now. That conversation, whatever it would be, needed to happen later. If there would be a later.

Marcy had an arrow half drawn with her bow. It was pointed at Harold but her attention was skewed. She looked between the group, her eyes frantic and constantly moving.

Wyn felt his heart racing again. Not in fear or anxiety, but in anger. Would they all break down this easily?

“Focus!” Wyn yelled. He wished he had a spell that could snap his friends out of their daze.

In response, a large ball of harsh wind formed around Harold, kicking up dirt and rubble in all directions. The fierce gusts were visible in the air, slightly green in magical arcs that cut into the stone floor like swords through flesh.

Harold screamed for a different reason, now. The ropes were flaying quickly, and his armor crumbled from the gales while exposed flesh was cut in dozens of areas.

“Go!” Cedric yelled, suddenly beside Wyn. His knuckles were white around his scepter. “I can’t change my element again, but hopefully that weakens him enough! We need to end this!”

Bolstered with confidence that at least one Climber in their group was helping, Wyn sprang forward. Cedric’s spell was still active, continuing to cut Harold on his legs, head and neck. Wyn couldn’t enter the area yet, not without stepping into the deadly winds himself.

He held his spear at the ready and bent his knees. Suddenly the spell stopped, and Wyn lunged forward with another strike of his spear at an exposed area where Harold’s armor was damaged. He knew his spear would cut more of the ropes binding the brute, but he needed to deal a heavy blow. He doubted any single strike would be fatal at this point, but any advantage was worth taking.

Harold broke free at the same exact time, pushing his exposed arms to swipe the spear away. Most of his body was still retrained by the magical ropes, but his strength was immense. More ropes snapped as he slowly moved out of the trap.

Each snap was a precursor to an enraged beast being set free, a harrowing noise that made even Marcy flinch and step back. The bow in her hands shook with trepidation, and the arrow fell loose off of its nocked position.

Wyn knew if the man gained momentum he’d be a bear to handle. Maybe even impossible. He reached out with his free hand, hoping to gain an edge. “Feeble!”

A large skull appeared above Harold as he seemed to shrink a bit from the spell. He was still intimidating, but he looked more manageable in a fight. Unfortunately as he physically shrunk a bit, the last of the ropes binding him fell off of him like baggy clothes.

That was certainly not what Wyn intended.

Harold stepped closer to Wyn and lunged out with one of his stone arms. The punch didn’t seem slowed at all from the spell, and Wyn felt his spear vibrate when he deflected it to the side. There was plenty of strength still in the man, but his confidence grew again. His weapon was a favorable type matchup. Harold’s strength was reduced, he was weakened, and he was outnumbered.

Wyn wanted this over, and over fast. John still needed help.

Harold summoned a large block of stone and hurled it at Wyn. Wyn sprang to one side, avoiding it as it flew across the room. Two stones floated in the air in front of Harold now, both smaller but still the size of his torso. Like the first one, they launched directly at Wyn.

Wyn jumped, leapt, and circled around Harold while giving himself some space, all while avoiding one stone attack after another. Harold changed up the size or amount each time, trying to outsmart Wyn though it didn’t matter. His speed wasn’t anywhere near where it needed to be to land a blow. Still, the attacks came relentlessly, and Wyn couldn’t close the distance without potentially taking a hit, and that was something he definitely didn’t want to do. In addition, some of the attacks were too close to chance, and he had to rely on his Shield spell more than once to avoid a direct hit.

“Marcy, help!” Wyn yelled, ducking under a boulder the size of his head. “Distract him so I can attack!”

Marcy fumbled an arrow and fired it, but it went wide. “Shit.” She shakily drew another arrow from her quiver, though only managed to spill several of them onto the stone floor.

She bent down and grabbed at them with trembling hands. She cursed herself. Why was this so hard? She saw and caused death all the time. Did Cedric almost dying really affect her that much?

A hand gently grasped her forearm.

Marcy looked up at Cedric. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even mad. He just… stared at her.

“Look deep inside yourself, Marcy. If you don’t, this will happen again. Or worse.” He nodded at his empty shoulder where only his robes fell by his side.

Marcy felt emotions rise inside her she hadn’t felt in some time. She took a deep breath and clenched her jaw. “Okay.”

The Ranger drew an arrow with the same confidence and ease she’d always done. Harold and Wyn were locked in a stalemate, one standing his ground and one running and leaping like a gazelle. She aimed directly at Harold, his back to her. His back that was exposed, no longer covered with earth as he fired so much of the element at Wyn.

“Multiply.”

The singular arrow that fired from Marcy’s bow split itself into nearly a dozen arrows mid flight. Nearly all of them struck the man, hitting his back and legs like a pincushion.

Harold screamed and fell to one knee.

Wyn paused for only a second then dashed forward. When he was within range, he stabbed forward with a grunt.

The spear pierced the brute’s chest, but Harold grabbed the weapon with two bulky, cut arms and held it in place. Blood fell from both sides of the man’s lips, and he growled at Wyn like a wild animal. The arrows sticking out of him swayed from his shaking rage.

He just didn’t know how to die. Thankfully, Wyn knew how to kill.

The next action happened all at once. Wyn let go of his spear that was in a stalemate with Harold so he could draw the dagger at his lower back. Then he closed the distance between them and stabbed the brute through the neck in one fluid motion.

Harold’s growls turned to gurgles and his eyes widened in surprise. He spit his last breath, one last act of defiance, coating Wyn in a spray of blood.

Wyn recovered his two weapons then caught eyes with Marcy. She looked hurt, confused, and shocked. She wanted to say something, but her words were caught in her throat.

Wyn ignored her, looking for Lionel and John. He caught Tasha’s gaze this time. The Mage bent over and threw up on the floor, dropping her staff. Marcy and Cedric rushed to her side.

She’d be fine. Wyn knew that. It didn’t make watching someone die easier, of course, but lives were on the line. Like John’s.

Another loud clang echoed across the mostly empty room. John had fallen to the ground, Lionel standing over him. Something was wrong.

Wyn redoubled his efforts and dashed across the room. His friend wouldn’t get hurt again. Not by that same man. He’d give his life if that was the cost - he only hoped it wouldn’t come to that.