A cluster of roots burst from the ground, piercing through the giant gremlin knight. The damage alone was enough to kill hundreds of cracklings. However, in the grand scheme of things, that was insignificant. Barely had the damage been done that the knight split into two, each attacking a different dryad echo. One of the attacks failed, the other succeeded, leaving only a total of seventeen remaining on the battlefield.
Meanwhile, Dallion kept running towards the key forge. He was fully aware he had minutes to get it all done. Even now, the guardian was at his limit, doing everything possible to grant Dallion more time. Even the vine whale was having difficulties against the flock of enemies.
Can you cut through walls, Nox? Dallion asked as he leapt from the inner castle wall.
Meow… the crackling replied. While it was no longer a little cub, the walls were too thick for it to slice through just yet.
The streets were much narrowed there, allowing no more than three people to walk side by side. Even that was wasteful, considering that there were no gremlins or habitable buildings to be seen. Everything—walls, towers, streets, and buildings included—were nothing more than a giant decorative shell made for the flame’s vanity. Like the cracklings that emerged from it, the source of the decay also seemed to improve, gaining the overall thoughts and emotions of the tribe. It seemed that just as the cracklings worked to forge armor capable of providing protection and a touch of vanity, so did the flame, using the city itself.
Vanity, Dallion thought. Having that meant that crackligns were more sapient than people thought. Given enough time, they could well turn out to be like humans. Enough differences would appear between the different individuals, forcing if not conflict, then at the very least tense coexistence. Opinions would form, and maybe even more. The issue was the overabundance of resources. While there were things to corrupt, the cracklings would grow, moving in unison against anything in their way. At the same time, should they consume all the resources, the item would break, collapsing the realm with it.
You’ve been here before, Gleam said, fluttering beside Dallion. She had chosen to create an illusion over herself appearing as a flying crackling, rather than remain in his realm.
Are you sure? Dallion asked.
You’re running in circles.
That was what Dallion feared. He had hoped he was wrong. The fact that he was right meant that the fire forge had no entrances leading into it. Even the windows turned out to be fake.
Horns filled the air. Dallion instinctively looked up. There was no telling where the sound came from, but it was close. There were probably some gremlins within watchtowers after all. That wasn’t his major concern, however. The sound of horns indicated that the threat had ended. The dryad echoes leading the attack had been wiped out, leaving the cracklings forces to return.
Crap! Dallion thought. This was faster than he expected. Time seemed to freeze as he focused on the problem at hand. At this point, he was no longer seeking an elegant solution, but rather anything. He could try and fight his way through the walls. With the vast majority of cracklings beyond the city walls. A line-strike probably had the power to slice through the buildings, and maybe harm the flame itself. However, doing so would have significant consequences in the real world. Harp had already warned him that despite his recovery he was in quite a vulnerable state—any further exertion had every chance of messing up his inner ear to the point that aiming and balance would be off for months.
Harp, can a line-strike cut through this? Dallion asked anyway.
No, the answer came, short and straight to the point without the possibility of misinterpretation.
I’m not going to ask you to. I just want to know whether you can do it, Dallion didn’t give up.
No, the harpsisword replied. The material is too dense.
That was to be expected. The guardian had the strength to perform such attacks. If the city walls weren’t strong enough to withstand the effects, there wouldn’t be the need for him to ask Dallion for help. So, walls were a bust as well, and tunneling—considering that was even possible—was going to take far longer than Dallion had. Ultimately, there was one option left… however Dallion didn’t like it.
You’re on the right track, the mysterious male voice said within Dallion’s mind. It’s risky, but at this point you’ll have to take some risks if you want to grow fast enough.
Chills ran down Dallion’s spine. The option he had thought of had been a simple theoretical exercise, half done in jest. Dallion was smart enough to know the dangers involved, as well as the consequences should he fail. If things went poorly, it wasn’t just the tournament he would lose.
You don’t have to do it, the voice continued. You did quite well as it is. The guardian is already impressed. It will be easy to sneak out now and have a second go in a few days. Maybe the dryad will even help you.
Despite the words of encouragement, the voice was mocking Dallion. He could feel it. He would never get a better chance than this. No matter how many times he managed to sneak into the central castle of the city, he’d face the same problem. Maybe if he were ten levels higher, or even just five, things might be different, but even then, there was no guarantee of success, just better odds.
There’s a lot to worry about, the voice continued. But it’s not like you haven’t done it before.
That time was an accident, Dallion thought. I’ve no idea what I did to achieve it.
Isn’t that the perfect time to learn? The voice laughed, fading away in Dallion’s mind.
For several seconds Dallion remained in the middle of the street, unable to take a step.
Dal? Gleam asked, alarmed by his sudden change of behavior. What happened?
Dallion didn’t reply. He was still thinking. The only option of success was going to put him at a far greater risk than he had even been so far. However, if what the voice said was true, maybe it would be worth it; not so much because of what the guardian had offered, but the possibility of learning an attack surpassing anything Dallion had seen so far.
Summer breeze, Dallion told himself. Blue glow and summer breeze. Those were the two only two things that he knew about the attack. At the time, he was merely a double digit, lacking half of his skills, and still he had pulled it off. Since then, though, he hadn’t managed to perform anything close and it wasn’t from lack of trying.
Combining his athletic and acrobatic skills, Dallion jumped between the walls of two nearby buildings, landing on the top. From there, getting to the roof of the main forge was easy.
You won’t be able to cut through the ceiling, Harp said.
I know.
Reaching the chimney, Dallion ran up. There was only one way to reach the black flame—a flaw that vanity had allowed it to create. Every flame, even a crackling flame, needed air to burn. However, the reason to create giant chimneys was one—pure unadulterated vanity.
Don’t! Nil shouted. At this point, even he had grasped what Dallion had in mind. You won’t be able to achieve anything. You’ll only get lost or turn into a chainling completely!
“Sorry, Nil,” Dallion whispered as he reached the top of the tunnel. “It’s something I need to do.” He jumped in.
The black smoke seemed to welcome him as he fell in. It was like swimming through water diluted with air. The illusion surrounding Dallion shattered. Dallion could see the surprise of the flame—surprise that something unknown had appeared, but also eager to consume it. Tendrils shot up, wrapping themselves round Dallion to form a black cocoon. There was no pain, only darkness and an unending hunger to devour everything in existence. In a way, it was similar to the experience the Star had subjected Dallion, but it was also different, less organized.
Lux, surround me, Dallion thought.
The firebird instantly did so. A layer of flames surrounded Dallion, separating him from the darkness around him. Dallion could feel the opposites collide: a flame that decayed everything it came into contact with versus a flame that could only heal and never damage. This was all the buffer that was needed.
“Time to show your worth, Vermillion,” Dallion said. “Personal awakening!”
Dallion expected for the ring to link him to his personal realm. He knew that linking his realm directly was beyond dangerous, risking the spill of cracklings within. That’s why he had resorted to the Vermillion ring. However, things didn’t go the way he imagined they would.
WHAT DO YOU WANT?
A green rectangle appeared in front of him. Just to make sure, Dallion looked around. His music skills told him that he was still in the crackling flame, as was Lux. However, he could no longer hear any of them, as if the link between Dallion and his realm had been severed.
“I want to learn how to slice through cracklings,” Dallion said. “No!” he quickly corrected himself. “I want to learn how to slice through decay.”
That was the key. He was risking too much to be content with merely learning how to deal with cracklings. Ultimately, he wanted to be able to face the chainlings and the Star as well. Realistically, he knew that there was little chance he would be granted Moon-like powers, but a step in the right direction was something he knew he could achieve. After all, he had managed to do it once before, even if it was partially. Back when the Star had used its power to cocoon Dallion in darkness, it was through a clever combination of Nox’s claws and the harpsisword’s music attack that he had managed to break free, ripping through the darkness. However, that was only part of his success. There had been another wave of power that had made it all possible, and that wave had come from Dallion himself.
WHY DO YOU THINK IT’S SOMETHING YOU CAN HAVE?
“You gave it to me already. This time I want it permanently. I know it’s within my realm somewhere. I’m not sure whether it’s linked to leveling up or it’s just hidden somewhere, but I know I have it. I’ve used it once before.”
There was no immediate response. By all accounts, it seemed that there was yet another power above the Moons, or at the very least parallel to them. It was said that the Moons were omnipotent and set all the rules, and yet it was never claimed that they were the ones that sent the rectangles. That was weird, considering they were linked both to stats and races.
YOU WANT TOO MUCH
“I don’t want all of it now,” Dallion said. “Just enough to start learning, and it must be strong enough to defeat the crackling flame.”
CHOOSE ONE
So that’s how it was going to be? The fact that Dallion received the offer meant that it was likely to be granted. Still, he didn’t see the reason for the reluctance. Defeating the embodiment of entropy had to be a good thing for any realm, the real world included.
“If I chose to learn, will you help me kill off the flame, or will you let me end up being consumed by it?” Dallion asked.
CHOOSE ONE
A second green rectangle appeared in front of the first. Clearly, Dallion wasn’t going to be given any more hints. If that was the case, he had just the response.
“I leave you to decide,” he said.
Both green rectangles disappeared. Was that the correct choice? Dallion had no way of knowing. Even so, it was better than any of the two alternatives. Back on Earth, Dallion’s grandfather used to say that nothing happened by accident. The same was true here—all major events had something triggering them. While Dallion believed it was his actions, and the support from friends, guardians, and familiars that had helped him get to where he was, he also couldn’t deny that there had been a few instances in which something else had granted him abilities he shouldn’t have had. The voice was one such example and so far, it hadn’t been wrong.
THERE’S A SPARK INSIDE YOU
A green rectangle appeared. Suddenly, everything went white.