Chapter 81: The Turn
The streets surrounding the Auction House resembled a battlefield, strewn with debris and scorched remnants of recent conflict.
Vora moved through the thick, acrid smoke like a blade slicing through water, her bronze eyes piercing the chaos with relentless focus as Eidolon agents flanked her, their presence a deadly shadow. The Church had descended in overwhelming force, not only reanimated lich's undead minions, their rotting flesh reanimated by dark magic, but also live soldiers, fanatic and ruthless, with twisted sigils burned into their flesh in arcane symbols. Some bore the formidable S-rank designation, while others carried the even more feared SS-rank, each determined to claim the core at any cost.
The vault was directly ahead. Its massive, reinforced doors remained sealed tight, glowing faintly with ancient barriers crackling with dark energy amid the billowing smoke. Vora's allies had already reached the vicinity, forming a defensive line, dark grey cloaks stained with blood from fierce clashes, eyes wary and ready.
She thought grimly, "They won't hold long. The Church's numbers are too great."
From the swirling smoke, a tall, lean figure stepped forward, blocking her path. He was cloaked in darkness, his face partially obscured by a mask made of reflective black glass that shimmered menacingly. Twin swords hung at his hips, their blades soaked with a glowing, bubbling substance that hissed and smoked upon contact with stone. His presence pressed heavily on Vora's senses, an SS-rank adversary, clearly formidable and unyielding.
"Eidolon," the masked man said softly, almost pleasantly. "I was hoping you'd come to meet me. The Church of the Eternal Will has many questions for your order."
Vora drew her blade, its edge gleaming with deadly intent. "The Church will have to settle for disappointment."
Without hesitation, she launched her attack, blades flashing as the battle ignited anew.
But she did not attack in a straight line. The space between them folded and twisted with unnatural fluidity. Vora was there one moment, then gone the next, her body slipping through a shimmering ripple in reality that hadn't existed a heartbeat before. The masked man's twin swords slashed through the empty air where she had just been. Vora reappeared abruptly behind him, her blade already slanting downward with lethal intent.
He twisted violently, one sword raised to intercept her strike. The impact reverberated through the cobblestone street, causing a loud crack and scattering debris. Simultaneously, his other sword stabbed upward, aiming for her ribs in a deadly arc.
Vora stepped sideways with precise timing as the very air around her seemed to warp and ripple. Her opponent's blade sliced through where she had been moments earlier, but she was already elsewhere, five paces distant, her hand outstretched in readiness.
A shard of condensed space, tiny, razor-sharp, nearly invisible, shot out from her palm like a needle, glinting with an almost imperceptible shimmer in the dim streetlight.
The masked man dodged just in time, but the shard scraped a shallow groove across his shoulder, and black blood sprayed from the wound. He staggered back, then offered a twisted smile.
"Space manipulation. Eidolon's little toys. I've seen this trick before," he sneered.
"Then you should know how it ends," Vora replied coolly.
She stepped forward, closing the distance rapidly as the surroundings seemed to fold inward. Before he could react, she was inside his guard, her blade angled sharply toward his heart. He brought both swords together in a desperate cross-block, but Vora's blade was already shifting, folding, twisting, slipping through the narrow gap between his weapons and into the flesh of his chest.
His eyes widened in shock.
He spat a word of power, an incantation, just as the ground beneath them erupted in dark, roaring flames. A towering pillar of black fire shot upward, forcing Vora back. She reappeared ten paces away, her cloak singed, her face cold and resolute.
The masked man's laughter echoed as blood ran freely from his shoulder wound. "Not bad. But you'll need more than tricks to reach the core."
Vora remained silent. She simply raised her blade once more, and the space around them began to contort and ripple, as if the very fabric of reality was bending to her will.
***
The gates of the Collegium lay in ruins, shattered from the relentless assault. Vex stood at the threshold, her silver hair whipping fiercely in the gusting wind as she faced the oncoming attack.
Church soldiers swarmed around her, their dark magic pulsating through the air, battering against the remaining enchantments that guarded the structure.
The mages under her command fought valiantly, their spells illuminating the chaos, but the Church's forces, SS-rank captains with cold, measured expressions, S-rank elites wielding devastating magic, and a relentless horde of risen dead, kept pressing forward, relentless despite their casualties.
Tobin's limp form was anchored behind her, surrounded by a protective circle of Collegium mages channeling their remaining strength. The curse enshrouding her flickered sporadically, barely holding her together.
Vex had exhausted much of her mana sustaining his life. If she didn't join the fray soon, the Collegium would be lost. The stakes couldn't be higher, if the Collegium falls, the Empire's greatest weapon would be lost forever, crippling their defense. She clenched her jaw, resolve hardening within her.
She made her decision. "Keep her alive," she commanded the mages sharply. "No matter what happens, she does not die."
Turning away from Tobin, she advanced toward the broken gates. The air grew colder, a chilling breeze sweeping through the ruins as the temperature abruptly dropped, the onset of an ominous, supernatural storm imminent.
Ice crawled across the rough, uneven ground, spreading in jagged, crystalline tongues from her feet, rapidly freezing the blood, the drifting smoke from nearby fires, and the first wave of Church soldiers who had been charging furiously toward her. They froze mid-scream, their bodies encased in shimmering crystal prisons, their dark magic sputtering and flickering out like dying embers.
Vex didn't hesitate or stop walking.
She raised one hand, and a spear of absolute zero, shimmering with a faint icy glow, shot through the air, impaling an SS-rank captain who had just raised his sword to strike down a group of young, terrified mages. The captain shattered into a thousand glittering, frozen shards.
With her other hand, she conjured a thick wall of ice, ten feet tall and uneven, like a glacier carved by relentless winds, blocking the Church's forces from reaching the inner sanctum. It rose majestically, steam hissing where it touched the flames and heat of their weapons.
"You will not take this place," Vex declared calmly, her voice measured, cold as winter's breath, and utterly confident.
The Church's forces hesitated for a moment, their armor clanking softly.
Then, driven by fury and desperation, they charged forward.
Vex faced them with a storm of swirling ice and unyielding fury, ready to defend with all her might.
***
The War Room buzzed with chaos, maps sprawled across tables, reports stacked high, messengers darting through the clutter. Tension hung heavy in the air, thick with urgency.
At the large window, the Emperor stood, his gaze fixed on the inferno below, flames consuming the city streets in a furious dance. His golden hair caught the flickering light of distant explosions, shimmered like a halo. His face was as unmoving as carved stone, revealing no trace of emotion. Behind him, a silent figure in black armor, a stern general, waited with unwavering composure.
"The purge is complete, Your Majesty," the general announced, voice steady. "All known traitors have been either eliminated or captured. Most of the Church's agents in the palace and noble districts are dead. The resistance in the lower districts still persists, but we've contained it."
The Emperor remained at the window, unmoved. "And the Church's main forces?"
"They're attacking the Auction House and the Collegium. Reinforcements are en route, but the battle is fierce. The Ember Guard is heading toward the core, the heart of the conflict."
Finally, he spoke, voice calm yet resolute, "Then the city survives. But if they breach the core, all this effort will be for nothing."
"And the Tribunal?" The general hesitated, then replied, "The Tribunal Hall has fallen. The lich is there, summoning the dead. But Lord Kane and his forces are holding their ground, pinning the lich and a large part of the Church's forces.
The Emperor paused, contemplative. "Kane is buying us precious time."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Then we must act fast. While the lich is fixed on him, we can complete the purge and secure the rest of the city. Send word to the Third Army. Their new objective is the complete destruction of every Church cell in the capital. And order the Ember Guard to prioritize the core."
The general bowed deeply. "And the lich?"
"It remains where it is. Kane has its focus. If he breaks, the city falls. If he endures, we turn the tide." The Emperor's eyes sharpened. "Make sure he knows he's not fighting alone."
The general saluted sharply and departed.
The Emperor turned back to the window, watching the smoke rise from the Tribunal district.
He allowed himself a single, small smile.
"Edmund's son," he thought. "Are you watching, old friend? I hope you're proud."