Shadow Clone Sorcery

“You’re on vanguard duty,” Xander whispered, rushing past Morph. It seemed the man had something akin to a Charge ability that allowed him to move at incredible speeds but only in straight lines, regardless of terrain. It wasn’t a spell. Otherwise, threads of arcane energy would’ve stood out to the clone. No matter how hard he tried, Morph couldn’t figure out Xander.

One moment, Morph thought the shieldbearer was an egomaniac who wanted to play hero. Next, he was a mysterious mountain ascetic. The way he embraced the cold, ate minimal and simple foods, and resisted the luxuries everyone else coveted made him come across as a warrior hermit. Now, as he rushed at the enemy party, catching crossbow bolts and spells on his shield, Xander appeared to be nothing more than a madman.

There was no strategy or thought behind his actions. The man saw a threat to the party and rushed at it headfirst. Attacks didn’t seem to reach him. Morph couldn’t tell whether it was an ability or his shield, but the magic seemed to unravel before reaching him. Then, the steam rising from his body thickened, enveloping him in a dense cloud that masked his presence.

The steam rushed straight at the party, but Morph caught a flash of movement rushing sideways, into a mass of boulders. The sudden change squashed all assumptions he had made about Xander. He wasn’t as hard-headed or hasty as he seemed.

The largest giant step forward, raising his shield. The cloud of steam exploded ineffectively against the shield. A counter swing got nothing but air, and the giant grunted, blinking rapidly. Morph doubted the steam was harmful. However, a blast of hot vapor to the eyes was bound to be uncomfortable.

None of the giants seemed to fall for the deception. The axe wielder closed in on the mage, edges glowing silver, and a fresh spell started to brew. Meanwhile, the crossbowman closed one eye, aimed down the sights, and scanned their surroundings. Energy flowed down the weapon and wrapped around the bolt, crackling wildly.

The crossbowman locked eyes with Morph, flashing a victorious grin. Loud cracks followed, and magic discharged as Xander shot into their midst, moving faster than Morph or El-Prime had ever seen. He rammed the giant, crushing him between the thick, door-sized shield and the cliff face. Blue blood splattered. An inaudible gasp escaped the blue-skinned man before he crumpled. The axe wielder swung at Xander. His weapon bit several inches into the shield, creating a deep gouge in the otherwise flawless metal.

Morph capitalized on the distraction. Enhanced Haste carried him almost as fast as Xander when he was sliding on the ground. He made a beeline for the shieldbearer. It would’ve made more sense to go for the mage, but he didn’t trust his ability to go around both melee fighters. Besides, Leisel had granted Xander command. As a good party member, he was supposed to obey. Instead, he used the same tactic as the shieldbearer, engaging the close-range combatants in direct combat, leaving the mage to the other clones.

The giant’s shield pushed Morph backward, and his mace followed, swinging upward. An extra arm shot out, Shadowsteel blade slicing off a finger and drawing a scream. Morph tried to go around the shield, attempting to attack the giant from his blind spot. He received a blow to the face for his efforts. The attack failed to shake the Morph off. The third arm clung to the shield while the fourth attempted to get around it.

Once again, Morph failed to injure the taller and stronger foe. The giant’s reach, strength, and natural toughness were too much for him to overcome. However, he successfully held his opponent’s attention while Xander did the same to the axeman.

The remaining clones unleashed a barrage of spells simultaneously. It started with electrified Shadowsteel needles. Most missed the nimble, staff-wielding mage. She danced out of their one, weaving a new spell until one got her lower calf. It stunned her momentarily, making the female giant spasm. A Stormfire sphere struck next, exploding with a boom. The shockwave knocked her backward, and lightning tendrils assaulted her, drawing screams.

It wasn’t enough to kill the female giant, but it opened her up to the Shadowfire that came next. She screamed, clawing at her face, swiping at an opponent who wasn’t there. Morph doubted the heat-sapping effects were enough to do harm, but the shadows’ new fear infusion was proving a potent weapon as any.

The axeman rushed to protect her and took a Shadowlance to the right thigh for his efforts. Xander changed opponents and took the Shieldbearer from the rear, knocking him onto his front. The giant almost pinned Morph, who sacrificed a couple of arms, getting away. He punched a Shadowsteel ‘bone’ blade through the back of the neck, killing it.

Biomancy helped heal wounds and regrow lost limbs rapidly. He left the rest of the fight to the others, absorbing the giant’s corpse. Mimicry replaced the spike-throwing monster Morph had copied in the tunnels. Its physiology was useful, but not for his current role. Besides, by copying the giant, he’d get the opportunity to study the mysterious race. They only existed in rumors, and El-Prime would want to learn about them.

A Stormtrooper clone got in melee range of the axeman, Shade’s Mantle clinging to his form like a coating of tar. He stomped on the Shadowsteel lance that had impaled the giant’s leg. The projectile’s mass multiplied, pushing through the limb and drawing screams from the giant and pinning him to the stone underneath. A swift retaliatory axe swing put down the clone, but it didn’t survive for much longer after. Xander’s shield smashed into the back of the axeman’s head, magic blades flaring at the edge. It cleaved into the skull, splitting it into two.

The mage was no threat on her own. A second Shadowsteel Lance struck, and a sonic explosion followed, blowing her to bits. Magic radiated from the shattered staff’s head. Morph grabbed it and summoned the journal before slipping the weapon into the hidden compartment. Xander was too busy collecting the dropped dual axes to notice.

This tale has been pilfered from NovelFire. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“You’re not as incompetent as you look.”

“I could say the same about you,” Morph replied, struggling to split his attention between regrowing limbs, compressing absorbed biomass, and conversation.

“I’m serious,” Xander continued. He kicked about bits of the dead mage, as if looking for something valuable among the remains. “You have a potent combination of abilities with adequate mastery over them. Your battle instincts are also pretty decent. Intelligence networks report you’ve rapidly risen through guild rankings despite only having joined for about a month. Why waste your time with the Frozen Phoenix? Aquila or one of the other big names would have you in a heartbeat?”

“Careful, Xander. It almost sounds like you don’t want my guild to recover.”

“Let dying birds die. A guild that is reliant on outside help to survive isn’t worthy of calling itself such.”

_____________________________

The warbeasts abruptly lost their focus. Whatever force drove them onward seemed to have faded. One charged at him and the mages from afar, seemingly maddened. The unnatural bone cannon growing out of its back had ceased firing. After dealing with a dozen giant armored warbeasts, Leisel’s spellcasting had slowed. It was clear that the low reserves and mental strain were getting to her.

Meanwhile, Mira’s magic was far too slow, and her attention was elsewhere. The party’s second vanguard stood locked in combat with two warbeasts. He was holding his own but was starting to make far too many mistakes. Mira had no choice but to focus all of her energy on growing cover for him.

Two paths lay before Lukas. He could save himself, leaving Liesel, Mira, the auditor, and her apprentice to their fates. Or, he could push himself to his limits, doing something fun, dangerous, and potentially suicidal. Lukas, of course, opted for the latter.

A couple of clones had died in the fight against the giants. He started by recreating them. The first was a stalker with a Spellweaver, and the second was a Stormtrooper with Alter Metal Mass.

“Use Shaker’s Beard,” he told the latter of the pair.

The Stormtrooper complied, pulling the tomahawk from the journal’s Hidden Compartment. He let the weapon hang by the chain and spun it rapidly, lightning coursing down it to the axehead. The inscribed metal glowed and crackled, tendrils of energy dancing up and down the metal. Meanwhile, the stalker raised a Shadowsteel barrier much like Lukas had, but it was significantly taller, and long pikes grew outward. They, too, crackled with energy. Because of the proximity, the clone didn’t add sound magic to the mix. The shockwaves were likely to hurt the others.

Meanwhile, Lukas focused on slowing the beast, using a combination of fear-infused Shadowfire and Stormfire. The lightning failed to do much to the warbeasts, likely failing to penetrate the thick armored hide. However, the sonic explosions did an excellent job of disrupting their senses and ruining their balance. Lukas didn’t pursue the glory of stopping the monster. He didn’t want the stress or strain that would come with the arcane expenditure. Swift, low-power attacks took priority. He wanted to preserve his energy in case all else failed and he had no choice but to flee with Liesel and perhaps also Mira, abandoning the mission.

Much to Lukas’s relief, he wasn’t forced to pick the unwanted path. By the time the warbeast reached them, it had lost most of its momentum. Its six legs failed to maintain coordination and move in a straight line. Balancing the long, cuboid body and the artificial growths on its back proved too much, almost causing it to fall onto its side several times during the approach. The creature ran into the Shadowsteel pikes, impaling its face and forelimbs. The barrier bent and buckled, starting to fall apart.

The Stormtrooper took advantage of the situation, rushing in from the side, moving at speeds neither Lukas nor the other clones could match. Lightning danced in his wake. Air rippled around the spinning tomahawk, filling the air with a high-pitched whistle. The clone released the chain, letting it lengthen. The weapon swung upwards into the warbeast’s exposed neck, cutting through hide and bone like butter. A follow-up swing cut even deeper, stilling the monster.

As soon as the warbeast perished, the stalker holding the Shadowsteel barrier dispelled himself. The mental strain was too much. Lukas also wobbled, his knees feeling like jelly. If not for Spellweaver, he was sure he would’ve fallen unconscious. The ability had also foiled the enemy’s tactic of taking control of the goats and causing havoc in the party’s backlines. It was potent, and Lukas was sure it would someday release him from Lady Silverspine’s control. However, it still wasn’t at the threshold. He didn’t need to check the journal to confirm his suspicions. Lukas could feel it in his bones.

The Stormtrooper rushed off to assist with the final two warbeasts, spinning Shaker’s Beard once again. They needed more practice with the weapon. The chain added reach, allowing the user to control it from afar, but also made it considerably more complicated to use than a simple tomahawk. It was the type of tool that, if misused, could potentially maim, if not kill, the user. Lukas had no intention of using it personally.

Shadow tethers wrapped around the chain could make it easier to manipulate. I’ll have the clones test that later.

“Are you okay?” Lukas asked, turning to the party leader. She had collapsed to her bottom and leaned against the wagon’s wheel, panting.

Liesel nodded. “I didn’t think the waves of warbeasts would stop. My seismic senses say there are more of them, but they’re moving away from us now. The enemy must be retreating.”

“The enemy party had a mage capable of controlling the things. Perhaps it was some sort of beastmaster. The golems took her out.”

“So, the warbeasts are fleeting?” Leisel asked, smiling weakly. She ceased her efforts with fortification magic after the Stormtrooper joined the fray. The clone had already helped put down another warbeast.

Lukas nodded. “I trained under a wizard whose magic specialized in the creation and control of magical beasts. If the spells controlling the warbeasts were in any way similar, they collapsed as soon as the caster died. Without a directive, these things have no intention to fight a losing battle.”

“Survival always takes priority.” Liesel sighed. She smiled weakly at Lukas. “I’ll report your performance to the guilds. You’re more than a stealth expert. Control Mage might be more appropriate.”

“Thank you,” Lukas replied, taking her hand and squeezing it.

If you only knew.