Redemption Arc

Lucian walked through the Golemancer’s workshop after the master craftmsan, his eyes scanning his surroundings. It almost looked like the aftermath of a battlefield. There were countless half-finished golems strewn about everywhere. Legs, torsos, hands, every body part that Lucian could imagine filled the rooms. It wasn’t exactly the same as he remembered it, but it’d been so long he couldn’t remember it that well at all.

“Do you have to take my measurements or something?” Lucian called out.

The Golemancer’s chair pivoted, turning him around while it continued to walk. “I already did.” Lucian blinked. “You sat in this chair, did you not? That was sufficient to give me the information that I needed. It remembers your mold.”

Lucian swallowed uneasily. He was confident that his plan would work, but there was always the vestige of uncertainty, the notion of something unpredictable. While he was passing by, he saw Belcourt’s arm, familiar sigils swirling around it. Those were the powers that Belcourt had borrowed from the great demons.

“Perhaps I could take one of those,” Lucian proposed.

The Golemancer looked back once more. “Why? What’s mine will soon be yours. You need nothing right now. We can handle that later.”

Lucian didn’t like that talk coming from a man that looked like a swollen grape with black holes for eyes, but he held his tongue.

“I’ll be truthful,” the Golemancer said. “I lack adamantium sufficient to fully encase your body.”

Lucian felt a little depressed hearing that news. He was hoping to swindle a full set of some of the best-quality material in the game assembled by a master craftsman. Adamantium was renowned for its incredible magic resistance. Magic was definitely much more threatening than physical attacks from Lucian’s point of view, even with his high elemental resistance. On top of that, it was the only metal material that didn’t lower SPD when worn.

Lucian walked a little closer. “Are you going to use an alloy, then?”

The Golemancer looked back with a contemptuous upturned lip. “Alloying adamantium reduces the potency of its primary benefits. I would never waste such precious metal on an alloy. The mere existence of alloys of adamantium is such folly that I wish I could find the person who first did such a thing and—”

“What’ll you do instead?” Lucian asked before he could go off on a rant.

“I could do one leg,” the Golemancer mused. “…but the idea of that infuriates me, slightly. And it doesn’t enable one to employ the full power of the adamantium. Instead, I’ll craft a gauntlet, a vambrace, a couter, a rerebrace, and a pauldron or a spaulder if the quantity of adamantium is insufficient.” He looked over. “An adamantium bondmail arm is something that I considered making for myself, personally, as I have many uses for such a thing.”

Lucian only knew gauntlet, vambrace, and pauldron from that list, but it was enough to get the picture—one arm. That was more than enough to choke him to death, or to otherwise make his life unlivable.

“And, uhh… is there going to be any skin-melding involved?” Lucian asked. The Golemancer looked over. “I’m committed, but I just want to know.”

“Have you seen one with bondmail on before?” the Golemancer asked. Lucian nodded. “You must’ve seen a very lowly slave. Some do have bondmail merged with their skin… it’s quite painful. I wouldn’t hurt our body in that fashion, rest assured.” He turned with a smile. “But it’s good to know of your commitment.”

Lucian exhaled in relief. He entered into this fully expecting to be repeatedly cattle branded. He had a spell prepared to numb the pain. It was good to know this would be a less transformative thing than he had originally been fearing.

They came to a gargantuan forge deep inside. There were several golems already working to get the forge hot. Lucian could feel its heat so intensely that he felt hesitant to proceed.

“Don’t look directly at the flame,” the Golemancer said. “You could blind us. Here, for the time being…” He handed over his goggles.

Lucian put the goggles on, briefly disoriented as they shifted around to something that blocked out the light. The Golemancer led him onward to see a fire blazing so bright that it seemed he was staring directly at the sun.

“Now… shall I show you the work of a master?” the Golemancer asked, grinning.

***

It had taken a fairly long while for the work to be done—but once it was, the Golemancer kept good on his word to display it before Belcourt.

And right now, Lucian felt like Jesus on the cross. Rather than the dining hall, they’d relocated to an open courtyard within the citadel, where tables had been arranged like this was a casual garden party. Lucian was suspended on a platform in a T pose with his torso exposed. It was a much nicer torso than he once possessed on Earth, so he wasn’t exactly bashful. That said, the audience hadn’t yet arrived. He was sure his feelings would change once they had.

“Your companions have been demanding to see you,” the Golemancer said. “That time will come soon. I really do hope that you don’t have something planned. I rather hate when I need to discipline what is mine with a firm hand.”

Lucian looked down at him. “Well, it’ll be my firm hand after the adamantium’s on.”

The Golemancer smiled without saying a word. After a time, he refocused. “They’re coming.”

Lucian tensed up a little. Soon enough, Rowan, Aurelia, Miriam, Ruth, Arthur, Heath, Azalea, and Bethany entered, shadowed by the monastics. Everyone had wide eyes when they saw how Lucian was prepared.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on NovelFire. Report any occurrences.

“Don’t fret,” the Golemancer said in good spirits. “He’s not your meal. He’s merely the entertainment.”

Arthur’s breathing was heavy, and his hand lingered near the mace at his waist. Lucian shook his head firmly, then gestured up and around with his eyes. They were in an open courtyard, and the reason for that was simple—so that the odds could be stacked in his favor. Countless golems with bows had been positioned above, peering down below. Metal monsters large and small watched them, still and silent, almost like statues. Everyone knew they could come alive at a moment’s notice.

“Everyone, just stay calm,” Lucian called out. “This is all going to work out for us. The only way it won’t is if you do something to make it otherwise.”

The Golemancer nodded. “Wise words. Take your seats, one and all,” he urged, gesturing to the various tables arranged throughout the courtyard.

“Lucian, we need to talk!” Rowan called out.

“Made up my mind,” Lucian said. “No need for talking.”

Rowan fixed his blue eyes upon Lucian. The man was perceptive. Surely, then, he’d notice the faint smile playing about Lucian’s lips. Perhaps he did, because Rowan nodded and went to take a seat.

“Belcourt will be the last to arrive,” the Golemancer declared, then pointed toward one chair in particular. “No one take his seat. He needs the best view.”

The seat that the Golemancer pointed out was right in the center. Belcourt would be incredibly exposed there. That said, it was quite a nice seat. A seat to die for, almost.

The atmosphere was grim, with tense mutterings from all his companions. Then, Lucian saw a servant golem turn the corner. Belcourt followed. As soon as he saw Lucian, he froze in his tracks. He looked around. He saw the golems on the wall, bows at the ready. He saw the giants beyond, also watching. He saw some of the guardians stationed within the courtyard himself. And lastly, he saw the one seat that hadn’t yet been taken.

No doubt he knew what was coming.

“Golemancer,” Belcourt called out from the entrance. “I’ve had some time to think about things. You mentioned that I meddled with your golems.” He pointed at Lucian. “That’s not true. The obvious culprit is right there.”

The Golemancer looked at Lucian, then back to Belcourt. “You believe so?”

“He has an Inquisitor’s Mark,” Belcourt said. “He can wield demonic energies. He’s obviously found some way to meddle with your golems. He’s tricking you. The bondmail will do nothing to him.”

“Hmm…” the Golemancer stroked his chin. Then, he grabbed Lucian’s wrist and turned it around. “But, Belcourt… there’s a problem. I’ve sealed his Inquisitor’s Mark.”

Lucian’s hand was bare. He’d been a little distressed at that, but the Golemancer assured him the mark was merely dormant rather than gone. Reassurances from someone like that didn’t do much. Even if it was gone, this success might be worth it.

“He’s tricking you!” Belcourt insisted desperately. “Think!”

“Take your seat, Belcourt,” the Golemancer said. “I’ve prepared the best in the house for you. Or are you refusing my hospitality?”

Belcourt exhaled, but went to take his seat. “You’ll lose everything. You’re being arrogant. This man… this man knows more than you can imagine. I see it now—he’s been the one thwarting us at every turn.”

“All the more reason,” the Golemancer said greedily.

“Avarice is blinding you, you—” Belcourt insisted.

The Golemancer shouted, “Nothing blinds me. You abominations stole everything from me. My children, my life’s work, all vanished when you FREAKS appeared,” he spat. “Your demonic energy stole them from me. It was capable of worming itself into my creations, overriding them. You can’t imagine what I went through as my children killed my friends, my colleagues, ALL OF THEM. I degraded myself, lowered myself to your level. It was the only way I could ensure that my works remained MINE. BUT I NEVER WANTED THIS!

“I want to see the sun again,” the Golemancer ranted. “I want to be among my own kind. I want things to be as they were. I want to sample the delicacies of the world, to sail across the sea, to walk over the mountains, to stroll through the forests, to know a woman once more. I want to live. I want to be HUMAN!” He pointed. “And once I become human, you and I will be natural enemies, Belcourt. This is how it has to be. You couldn’t bring me what I wanted, last time. But now…” He looked to Lucian. “Now, what I wanted found me.”

The Golemancer raised his hand and snapped. A golem walked forth, bearing the adamantium armor fitted for Lucian’s arm. It was a resplendent blue metal, unadorned and practical. The Golemancer seized the first piece, and then began putting it over Lucian. Once it was on, it would be bonded. This was someone’s nightmare, no doubt, but not Lucian’s.

Why was Lucian so confident?

His Inquisitor’s Mark was sealed, yes. But the Inquisitor’s Mark had never been the danger. The power it possessed was different from that which could corrupt golems. Belcourt had called it right. Lucian had been the one to meddle with those golems. He’d tested to be sure that he was able to do this.

There was a reason the Golemancer was so insistent, so cocksure. His golems were weaved with his own demonic power. They couldn’t be corrupted, because they were already corrupted. His demonic power was unique to himself. No demon could imitate his energy—no demon could steal control of his golems.

But Formless Essence was essence without form, and it could mimic everything… even a unique energy. Lucian had proven able to mimic the Golemancer’s particular demonic energy, and wrest control of it.

Sorry, Belcourt… or maybe I should call you Cassandra, Lucian thought as the armor was slotted on. You’re right. You’re right all the way. But no one believes you.

Finally, the gauntlet slipped over his fingers. The Golemancer moved backward, then held his hand up. Gray magic manifested, weaving together with black demonic energy. Together, it coursed into the adamantium armor. Lucian could feel a strange sensation in his arm as it all settled. He felt it cling so tightly to his skin it felt like it merged. It felt like one of those blood-pressure tests, but on his whole arm.

Then, his arm was seized by another will. It wrenched until it grabbed the bindings securing him, then pulled. They broke, and Lucian fell free and landed on the courtyard. His fingers were spurred to move against his will, moving up and down and clenching and unclenching.

“…exceptional,” the Golemancer said. He whipped his head to where Belcourt sat. “What now, Belcourt? What do you have to say?!” he demanded with mad glee.

Belcourt leaned back in his chair and sighed. He raised his hands up and clapped. “Well played, Lucian. Very well played. The sad truth is, though… your father took my place. He makes most of the strategies, now. All I am now is a soldier. And with my arm gone, I’m considerably less potent than I once was.” He reached for the black cloth mask around his face. “But, well… perhaps that’s for the best. Because you outplayed me.”

Belcourt pulled at the mask. Lucian’s eyes narrowed.

“The least I can do is try and make your hard work useless by killing the Golemancer.”

Belcourt pulled free the mask, and a wave of shadow followed.