Chapter 192: Breaking Free
Augustine, careless for a moment, fell into the trap Evan had laid. Evan knew this alone couldn't kill Augustine — poison alone wasn't enough to finish him — and at once triggered the crescent blade buried underground. The crescent blade leapt up out of the earth, its thunderfire light stretching several forearms long, already upon him.
Augustine was worthy of his name. At this critical juncture, his body spun in a great arc, his spear snapping upright, and he shielded his vital points. The interval was exceedingly brief, but he hadn't fully evaded it — his left arm, from the elbow, was grazed by the crescent blade and severed from his body at once. He let out an agonized scream, his body hugging close to the ground as he flipped backward and away.
This had happened after Aggs made his move. A moment before, Aggs had struck, breaking Evan's Scourge of the Undead and wounding him. The three of them thought Evan was already a turtle in a jar; Aggs had just shouted, "Don't let him escape — take him alive!" Before the words were even out, in the blink of an eye, the situation had reversed once more.
Augustine, grazed by Evan's crescent blade, his left arm severed at the elbow, his foot poisoned — fortunate he was quick-witted — had flung himself clear in the midst of his body's spin.
Evan pointed at the crescent blade, and thunderfire roared, sand and stones flying, already bearing down on Aggs's head. Aggs was alarmed; a surge of holy light burst forth, transforming into a black, gleaming radiance that rose to meet it. With a boom, the crescent blade was knocked aside — but Evan, with a ring of steel, drew his sword. With a hum, in an instant, his sword-intent locked onto Aggs, the sword-light stretching twenty or thirty forearms long, like a silver rainbow, driving straight at his chest.
Aggs felt a bone-deep chill, his whole body locked by that sword-intent. A Cross-Star at his chest suddenly blazed forth a dazzling cruciform light. Evan felt his locked target abruptly vanish, and suddenly remembered — a divine artifact, the Cross-Star, one of the Church of the Creator's three divine artifacts. His sword was already upon him, like a thunderclap ringing out of the sky; the artifact's radiance met his sword-energy, and he felt a great force surge at him, his body flipping backward through the air to land on the ground.
Abraham pointed his wand, and in an instant bone spikes burst up from the ground, rushing straight at Evan's face. Evan tapped the earth with his foot and loosed a casual stroke of his sword, sending a shrill whistling straight at him.
Abraham startled and raised his wand, black light flaring, bracing upward — with a scraping sound, the wand was shorn in two by the sword-energy, while Abraham himself scattered into a cloud of black smoke. This was his Dispersal technique; the sword-energy struck empty air. Abraham's figure reformed several forearms behind, his face pale, having taken some measure of injury.
He had just congratulated himself on escaping when a bolt of sword-light plunged down from the sky — Shuang had made her move. He was greatly alarmed and rolled aside in a fluster; the sword-light still grazed him, blood spraying, that stroke having very nearly split him open belly and gut.
Meanwhile, Aggs pressed his hand to the Cross-Star at his chest. A moment ago the Cross-Star had saved its master automatically, without deliberate activation; now it was different — he began to invoke the divine artifact. In an instant, a beam of holy light rose suddenly from his body, connecting earth and sky, and an enormous pressure descended abruptly. The whole field stalled, and Evan silently cursed his luck.
He pointed at the crescent blade, and it swelled at once, a whirlwind carrying thunderfire crashing down onto Aggs, while he raised his other hand. "Shuang, quick, to me!"
Shuang swiftly landed on his left shoulder. Evan let out a great roar, and stones large and small all around the ground suddenly flew up — telekinesis — falling on the three of them like a downpour.
The crescent blade surged with power, yet before the Cross-Star it was as paper; the whirlwind and thunderfire, the moment they met the holy light, dissipated at once. The Cross-Star had already transformed into an enormous cruciform sword of light, crashing down. The poor crescent blade gave a whimper, then cracks appeared and it shattered, scattering like a fall of star-rain.
But then great swaths of stone came down like rain; meeting the cruciform sword of light, they dissipated like snow meeting fire. The other two, though, fared wretchedly, taking no small number of hits.
The cruciform sword of light continued down, cleaving straight at Evan. Evan's figure suddenly blurred and vanished from the spot — he'd triggered a teleport, moving clear in a blink. The cruciform sword continued down, and with a roar the earth shook and the mountains trembled, a corner of the peak sheared away, the whole place shrouded in dust, a great rift appearing in the ground.
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When the dust settled, the terrain had changed. The Cross-Star was worthy of being a divine artifact — with a single stroke, earth and mountains shook. Fortunate that Evan had fled fast, or he'd never have escaped. Looking at the three on the field, Aggs was thoroughly exhausted. The Cross-Star was a divine artifact, true, but invoking its power required sufficient strength; even one as strong as Aggs could unleash only a single strike. Had Evan been able to withstand that one strike, Aggs would basically have been a lamb for the slaughter.
"He's gone!" Aggs still maintained his dignity as a cardinal. Compared to him, Augustine and Abraham were a sorry sight indeed. Augustine's left arm was severed at the elbow, the bleeding now stopped, and he'd found his left hand and was fitting it back against his arm when Aggs spoke up.
"Augustine, come here. I'm not skilled at reattaching severed limbs, but I'll preserve the arm for you — find someone to treat it once you're back," Aggs said. Augustine came over, and Aggs pointed, a beam of white light temporarily sealing the arm.
"Do we pursue Nicholas or not?" Abraham came over now, his great wound already treated; fortunate they were all flesh wounds, already beginning to heal, though some marks remained.
"Do you think we can pursue him? His name is going to be raised again," Aggs said.
Evan had tumbled out, still feeling the effects of that sword-strike. Fortunate he'd fled quickly — but he had no idea where he was now. Had he not been caught up in that strike, he'd have known where he'd land; the teleport distance was controllable, especially a short-range teleport like this, generally within ten kilometers or so. But affected by that strike, he'd lost his bearings.
Fortunate he carried a magical map — a map for a mage's exclusive use, that could indicate his position in real time. This required, of course, that he'd been to the place before, or that others had. If a place had never been visited, the magical map couldn't display his position either.
Evan took out the magical map, a piece of crystal. Magical maps had many carriers — gems, metal, even monster-hide. Evan activated the map. A magical map was a fine thing indeed, and Heathermere's magical maps were more detailed still, noting a place's minerals, plants, animals, and market conditions one by one — a pity there were only maps of the Taixi Continent and Nabos, with none of the Barbarian Continent. Last time, when they'd gone to rescue Professor Demir's party, Professor Demir had borne a mission at the time — to map that jungle — but hadn't completed it; though he'd gathered some data, it wasn't enough to finish the map.
A map appeared in the space before him. Evan looked it over carefully — this teleport had actually carried him more than a hundred kilometers. No wonder his body felt somewhat off; did that single strike carry such power?
Evan didn't realize that at the time he'd only focused on teleporting, unaware that if a teleport were disturbed, the consequences were severe. That he hadn't ended up somewhere else entirely was already fortunate — a hair's breadth of error, and he'd have been off by a thousand kilometers.
Shuang, though, showed no ill effects at all. Once out, her eyes darted about, and seeing Evan looking at the map, she asked, "How many kilometers did we escape?"
"Not far — just over a hundred. We need to move quickly; those Church of the Creator charlatans might come after us again," Evan said. Shuang nodded in agreement.
Evan layered a haste spell over himself and headed swiftly southwest. This time he met no obstruction. Reaching a market town, he hired a carriage, and after more than a day, finally returned to the Shrimp Peninsula.
To Evan's surprise, Jessica had also returned the day before. Ortlando and the others hadn't come with her; she was alone, reading a magazine.
"Good day, Jessica. I didn't expect to run into you here again. Jenny isn't with you?" Evan asked.
"Good day, Professor Wang. So you're back too. Jenny's with Mikoyan," Jessica said, setting down the magazine with a smile.
"Are they father and daughter?" Evan asked in a low voice.
Jessica laughed. "I never expected Wang to be curious too. I thought curiosity was only for us women. Though it's not been said, I'd say it's so."
Evan smiled faintly. "A question in one's mind always wants an answer. When do you plan to leave?"
"In a couple of days — we should let Mikoyan and his daughter have their reunion. Mikoyan seems so honest; I never imagined he had a past like this. Oh, and when do you plan to return to Heathermere?" Jessica asked.
"I'll travel with you all. What magazine are you reading?" Evan asked, his eyes moving to it.
"It's Alchemy magazine. There's a very interesting article in this issue," Jessica said.
"Solomon Magic Academy's Alchemy magazine. What article?" Evan asked, quite interested.
Alchemy magazine was Solomon Academy's school journal, but by now it had also become a magazine of enormous influence, publishing chiefly papers on nature, magic, and alchemy. For instance, it had once published several papers by an alchemist named Antoine Laurent, describing in detail the law of conservation of mass and that combustion was the oxidation of combustible matter, thereby refuting the phlogiston theory; he had also proposed the notion of the ether, holding that heaven and earth were steeped in ether, and that the root of magic lay in the ether.
"This one — John Chambers's Quantitative Relationships in Material Reactions. It argues that in alchemical reactions, matter always combines in fixed proportions, from which he deduces that matter is composed of atoms, and that the changes in a reaction are the recombination of atoms — providing a basis for the ancient Silun atomic theory. The article makes a great deal of sense." Jessica turned to the page and handed it to Evan. Evan was inwardly startled — atomic theory had emerged. It seemed this world was, in essence, much like his previous world. But what was magic, then? Was it merely a tool of consciousness, or did it have some material basis of its own?
Evan took the magazine and read it carefully. Indeed, it was atomic theory — very primitive, but science had, after all, set sail in this world, even if under the names of alchemy and magic. Perhaps this world would never see the word "science," but its essence would not change.