Ends of Magic

There was a brief scramble as everyone moved to their assigned positions. The Heirs ran forward, getting as close to the front of the starting zone as they could without crossing over the line that was marked out in front of them. The Aleph Grid starting location was ten miles in the distance, hidden beyond the bend of the valley.

“Ready?” Nathan asked, standing a few steps back as Aarl limbered up his arms and swapped the black-bladed sword he’d been carrying for a heavy greatsword that could amplify the momentum of its swings.

“After those prayers, blasphemously so!” replied the fighter, swinging the heavy metal through the air with a wooshing noise and setting his feet like a batter about to take a swing.

Khachi’s eyes had wings of glowing fire that extended out past the bounds of his face. “We shall add to the tally of our deeds.”

“By blowing up a dungeon of fools!” Stella crowed, her own mana signature flaring as she prepared to channel mana.

The countdown hit zero, and Nathan moved. He sprinted forward and leapt into the air right before he passed Aarl, flooding his muscles with Stamina and pushing every one of his movement skills as hard as he could.

The flat side of his friend’s greatsword impacted his butt like a bat striking a beach ball. Aarl’s skills had overloaded the momentum-imparting enchantments in the sword, and the force transfer broke Nathan’s tailbone and pelvis. Aarl’s sword snapped in half from the combined overload and contact with Nathan's antimagic, but it had already done its job.

Nathan shot upwards like a home-run ball. He stabilized his flight and healed his wounds, then caught hold of the jetstream of wind Stella had sent after him to accelerate him forward and upwards even faster. The Heirs were following along behind him, but their ascent was slower and it would take longer to reach Nathan’s altitude.