"The deeper we go, the less it makes sense." Konrad took in the alien landscape.
Mushrooms glowed brighter than torches.
"It's weirder than I'm used to," Welf agreed. "Much bigger, too."
That word didn't do it justice; the place defied logic. No traps or treasures, no reason for it to exist, but Griphlets kept coming.
"This one's yours." The redhead hefted his sword.
The cavern, now open, let him swing wide. Konrad stabbed one between the beak and the eyes, blade stuck in the skull. Welf finished it off, as another charged in.
They came in groups now, showing no instinct for survival.
"It's getting past us," the blacksmith yelled, as one lunged at the pariahs. The boy jumped in the way, a blow almost crushing him. His palm bled, but he'd bought enough time for Welf.
His back ached, but he noticed the girl from before.
Her fearful gaze aimed at him, not at monsters, and that hurt more than his injuries.
"Come," the blacksmith tried to help him up, before a soldier almost knocked them over.
"Look what we've found," the Crows' leader held the crystal Konrad bled for. Could he weaponize their greed? He had an idea. "It lay on the ground, but—whered'ye think yer going?"
The thug blocked his path, and he sighed.
"To relieve myself," he improvised, and the holler came on cue. "Slave, come cover for me."
"Run before shitting yer pants," the mercenary laughed, "or too late?"
"Don't mind him," Welf whispered, ushering him behind cover. "It happens to everyone."
"You thought I—" Konrad scowled, fumbling with his pants. "Never mind. They can't see what I'm doing." The redhead turned away to guard him, chuckling.
"Don't be shy, in situations like this, it's normal to—"
"Shut up already," he grunted, yanking the vial out of his pocket. He forgot the quill. "Whatever, I'll use my finger." To that, Welf spun to look in horror.
"Oh," he put the pieces together, "so that's what it was about?"
Konrad refused to react, focused on scrawling runes across his forearm. Messy and oversized without a quill, and space was scarce. He couldn't waste a single line.
"Project image," he mumbled. "Could use 'animate illusion', too."
There was only enough space for three spells. Would they even work? He focused on the first one, crystal in his right, and— Nothing. What was missing?
Runes double-checked, crystal pulsing in his palm.
"What's wrong?" Welf whispered, but he couldn't answer.
The runes glowed, the ink warm; it shouldn't have mattered, but he switched the crystal to his left hand. He tried a projection, and— it worked. A lifelike copy of the very crystal floated.
Why? Sure, he was happy, but he didn't understand.
He repeated, activating runes without using his internal mana. After another hand switch, it still worked. "Why?!" His frustration made his guard anxious.
"What?" The blacksmith grunted. "Still not working?"
"It does, but—" Konrad turned his crystal. "It didn't at first, then I switched, and— Oh."
The stone dripped with his blood. The cut on his left palm must've activated it.
"Ye drown in shit yet?" The thug came too close for comfort. Konrad rushed the last rune, yanking his sleeve down to cover it. He didn't have time to activate the second spell.
Welf puffed his chest until he hid the vial and the bloodied crystal, too.
"Was that monster hard on ye?" The bastard teased, rich, coming from someone in the back row. Thinking of how he'd torment him, he couldn't help the comeback.
"Sorry, Captain, didn't know your company relied on one boy with a weak stomach," he snickered. "But I see you can't operate if I don't do the heavy lifting."
The black-teethed smirk disappeared, knuckles cracking.
"Master, please," Welf stepped in. "They must've killed many beasts while you struggled with your bowels." His 'slave' couldn't hide a shit-eating grin, though.
"I'm sure, but they missed those three, so slay 'em, and bring me their cores."
Konrad created an illusion far behind the footmen. It was static without the second spell, but it was far enough to hide the fact. Welf ran past them, the thug's rage frozen in his throat.
"What are ye waiting for?! Go and take the crystals."
Pariahs shuddered. They shuffled more like stumbling skeletons than runners. The heavies didn't even try, and the rest took cover behind them.
"Bring me a stone, or I'll skin ye alive," the Crows' captain shouted.
Which was a problem. He could've faked the crystals, too, but nobody could've touched them.
Konrad ran to catch up with the 'battle.' He watched the redhead's movements, canceling illusions he touched. Luckily, these monsters turn into smoke.
Fake corpses would've given him away faster than a confession.
He 'slain' the last one himself, then activated the second rune.
As long as he focused on it, his images would've come to life.
All it took was a little dizziness, going away fast—casting from borrowed mana felt like cheating. Once the pariahs caught up, he was all done, and they watched him in fear.
The grey-haired girl was even shaking when he looked at her. Why was it so complicated?
"Nice diversion, but it's a dead end," Welf whispered, as if this were part of the escape plan.
No, he wouldn't leave before he broke the mercenaries. And he needed these miserable tribesmen to trust him first, anyway. "You picked up an extra crystal earlier, right?"
Konrad reached out, ensuring the thugs didn't see the exchange.
"Don't tell me you're out." The blacksmith handed it over, but he shook his head.
"Not even close." His bloodied crystal still pulsed with the same intensity.
Turning to that girl, he offered the other stone, but the others closed in around her.
Was she someone important?
"I won't hurt you." Konrad rolled his eyes, holding out the loot. "What's your name?"
Welf groaned, knocking it out of his hand. She flinched as it landed at her feet.
"Take it to your master, or say goodbye to your skin," he barked. The girl scrambled, then her matted hair flew behind her as she limped away.
"What was that for?" the boy whispered as the rest turned as well.
"If a master gave her gifts," Welf rasped, "it would've been to make her spread her legs."
Blood rushed into his face as he considered the implications. He shouldn't have known, given who their master was. After that comment about loving boys from behind—
He swallowed hard at that thought. "How do I earn their trust, then?" he asked, getting desperate.
Welf sighed. "Killing those bastards would be a good start," he said. "But we've nothing that'd slice through their heavies." Were they that tough? They must've been slow.
But the pariahs he wanted to save were, too.
"Bet it's hot in there, though," Welf added as an afterthought. "Lily would've burned them alive."
Konrad was sweating, too. He didn't have the mana to make fireballs, and didn't want to repeat Zoltan's blunder with them, either. But he remembered the miniature sun he had shown him.
Pure light, concentrated. If fire were hot, the sun's plasma should be scorching.
He never had the mana to experiment, but now new opportunities had opened up. Except, he couldn't float blinding-bright orbs around the soldiers—
"Infrared," he yelled, making Welf jump. "Not all light has to be visible. Cover me for a minute."
He found something to break the line of sight.
"I'll cook those bastards in a microwave."