NOVEL WEB Chapter 26: Redirecting Disaster
The campfire's dying embers cast flickering shadows across the clearing, the air thick with the acrid scent of smoke and charred wood. Edwyn's greatsword was already in his hands, its frost-etched blade glinting as he shifted into the rhythmic breathing pattern of his Black Iron Beast bloodline. His heart pounded, a searing heat surging through his veins as black, metallic scales erupted across his skin, shimmering like liquid obsidian. Behind him, Elia gripped her wand, its sapphire tip sparking with faint magical energy, her eyes wide but steady. The blood-soaked figure stumbling into the firelight sent Edwyn's senses into overdrive.
"What the hell?!" he barked, his voice a mix of bravado and suspicion, his grip tightening on the sword's hilt. "Who's crashin' our barbecue?"
"Don't attack! It's me, Loken!" The figure wiped blood from his face, revealing the chubby, sweat-streaked features of the apprentice from the mission hall. His robes were torn, his round face pale beneath the grime, his eyes darting nervously toward the dark forest.
Edwyn's face turned sharp, his eyes narrowing. "Loken? Weren't you playin' buddy-buddy with your little squad? What's with the horror show getup?" He shot a glance at Elia, who caught his meaning instantly. With a casual step, she moved to their luggage, her fingers brushing the grip of the Lesser Fireball Staff tucked among their gear. Something was wrong, Loken's panic reeked of trouble, and the rustling in the woods confirmed it.
The air hummed with danger, the faint whoosh of magical projectiles cutting through the night. Loken's expression shifted, a flicker of mana sparking beneath his boots. "Long story, man! I'll explain later!" he shouted, already bolting into the forest. "I've got the goods, split up and run!"
Edwyn's grin vanished, replaced by a scowl. "Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me," he growled, his voice dripping with irritation. "That little weasel just set us up!" He spun toward the trees, raising his voice to a bellow. "Whoever's out there, I ain't with that chubby con artist! Don't drag me into his mess!"
His words were cut off by a sharp BZZZT!, a blue streak of energy slicing through the air like a thrown dagger. Edwyn's instincts kicked in, his greatsword swinging in a wide arc, cleaving the magic missile in half with a shower of sparks. But more followed, a barrage of glowing bolts piercing the night, hammering against his robe's forcefield. The shield flickered, and several missiles broke through, slamming into his scaled chest. Before the Bloodline Alchemy, those hits would've turned him into a pincushion. Now? He grunted, the impacts stinging but barely denting his scales.
"That all you got?" he roared, his grin returning, all teeth and defiance. "Attack!"
Elia didn't hesitate. She raised her fireball staff, her blonde hair whipping in the sudden surge of mana. Magic poured from her core, channeling through the staff's crimson crystal, and erupted in a blazing orange-red fireball. The spell screamed into the trees like a vengeful comet, exploding with a thunderous BOOM! The shockwave tore through the forest, hurling dirt, leaves, and splintered branches into the air. Flames roared to life, licking across the undergrowth with terrifying speed.
Elia's hands trembled as she lowered the staff, her voice shaky. "Did… did we get them?" The raw power of the fireball spell, the searing heat, the deafening blast, had rattled her. It was her first time unleashing something so destructive, and it felt like she'd called down a god's wrath.
Edwyn's eyes scanned the inferno, his scales glinting in the firelight. "Don't count on it," he muttered, his voice low. "Somethin' tells me we ain't done yet."
As if on cue, a gust of magical wind roared through the blaze, fanning the flames into a raging wildfire. From the heart of the inferno, a figure rose, their silhouette warped by heat and smoke. Charred beyond recognition, their robes smoldering, they stood with a defiance that matched Edwyn's own. Their eyes burned with hatred, and a faint glow pulsed at their fingertips as they prepared one final spell.
"I'll send that bastard to hell with you…" the figure rasped, their voice barely human.
Edwyn didn't wait. He charged through the flames, the scorching air searing his lungs like hot coals. His scales absorbed the heat, his physique shrugging off the pain as he closed the distance. His greatsword flashed, a silver arc in the firelight, and the figure's head hit the ground with a dull thud. The magical gust died instantly, but the fire had already spiraled out of control, a roaring beast devouring the forest.
"Loken, you slimy little…" Edwyn growled, his voice tight with fury as he sheathed his sword. That chubby apprentice had dumped this mess on them and bolted, leaving them to clean up his chaos.
Back at the camp, Elia was coughing, her sleeve pressed to her face against the choking smoke. "Edwyn!" she called, her voice muffled. "We gotta get out of here!"
"On it!" he shouted, scooping her up in one fluid motion, her slight frame light in his arms thanks to his enhanced strength. "Hold tight, princess!" He grinned despite the chaos, his scales shimmering as he sprinted through the inferno, the flames licking harmlessly at his armored skin. Elia clung to him, her eyes wide but trusting.
"Over here, mage lords!" Old John's voice cut through the crackle of the fire. The old guide stood at the edge of a clearing, waving them toward a narrow river glinting under the moonlight. He hadn't ditched them after all.
Edwyn skidded to a stop, setting Elia down gently. "Nice to see you didn't bail, John," he said. "Thought you'd left us to roast."
John chuckled, his white hair damp with sweat. "Not my style, mage lord. Let's hide in the river. Fire wll die soon."
Edwyn raised an eyebrow, glancing at the raging blaze. "Die out? You got helicopters hidden somewhere, old man? This is a full-on forest fire."
John smirked, jumping into the shallow river with a splash. "You haven't learned the rules of the Blackstone Mountains yet, have you? We've got a guardian deity here."
Before Edwyn could ask, a bone-rattling roar shook the mountains, the sound reverberating through the valley like a thunderclap. A massive creature soared into the sky, its silhouette blotting out the stars. Three serpentine heads writhed on long necks, bat-like wings spanned wider than the airship, and its body was clad in scales thicker than Edwyn's own. Each head opened its jaws, and a vortex of air roared to life, sucking the flames into three glowing streams of energy.
"A dragon?!" Edwyn stammered, his grin replaced by wide-eyed awe. "No way!"
John stroked his beard, unfazed. "It's eatin' the fire element, mage style. Fire's just energy out here, and that beast's got a taste for it."
Edwyn watched, slack-jawed, as the creature devoured the blaze, the flames spiraling into its maws like rivers of light. In the Mage worldview, everything was built from the four elements, earth, wind, water, fire, and this beast was literally drinking the fire's essence. Ten minutes later, the forest was dark again, the flames gone, leaving only smoldering ash and the faint smell of charred wood.
"All done," John said, climbing out of the river and wringing out his clothes. "If we're lucky, that pheasant I roasted might still be edible."
Edwyn's eyes burned with a cold fury. "John, can you track someone in these woods?"
"Track 'em? Ain't nobody hides from Old John," the guide said, his smile sly. "Who you huntin'?"
"Loken," Edwyn spat, his voice low. He glanced at Elia, who was brushing ash off her robes, a few minor burns reddening her skin. "You okay?"
Elia nodded, her eyes hard despite her thirst. "Thirsty, but fine. You gonna kill that fat bastard?"
"Damn right," Edwyn said, his grin turning feral. "You gonna try to stop me?"
Elia snorted, rolling her eyes. "Stop you? After that stunt he pulled? Killing him's too good for him. Take me with you, I just learned a curse spell, and that jerk's the perfect test dummy."
Edwyn's eyebrow shot up, his grin widening. "Curse spell? Damn, Elia, you're goin' dark on me. Didn't peg you for the voodoo type."
Her face flushed, and she waved her hands frantically. "I-It's not like that! It's for self-defense! You know about those curse murders among the freshmen, right? I just wanted to be ready!"
Edwyn's grin softened, but his eyes stayed sharp. "Chill, I believe you. But, uh, fun fact: curse spells don't just work for anyone. The Curse School says you need 'spiritual affinity' for 'em to even activate. If you pulled it off, you might be a natural."
Elia's jaw dropped, her face paling. "What?! You mean my 15 Mana Stones might've been wasted?!" She clutched her head, her savings, her entire fortune, gone on a spell she might not even be able to use.
Edwyn chuckled, clapping her shoulder. "Hey, if you've got the knack, those stones were well spent. Cursemancers are rare, scary rare. One Grand Overlord from that school once cursed a whole planet to dust. No pressure, though." He turned to John, his grin turning predatory. "Let's move, old man. I'm guttin' that bastard today."
Meanwhile, at the edge of a misty mountain valley, Loken crouched behind a jagged boulder, his chubby frame heaving with ragged breaths. The guardian beast's silhouette faded into the peaks, leaving the forest eerily quiet. "Heh," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "That blast probably wiped 'em all out. Hell of a show, though, even dragged out the guardian."
He grinned smugly, pulling a mud-caked notebook from his tattered cloak. Its leather cover was worn, but the pages glowed faintly with arcane script written in the Mage Language. "High Apprentice's notes," he said, his voice thick with greed. "What kinda idiot wouldn't steal this? Those two are dead, and I'm sitting pretty."
He tucked the notebook away, oblivious to the faint shimmer of scales in the distance, or the cold, vengeful eyes tracking his every move. Edwyn was coming, and the Blackstone Mountains were about to get a lot bloodier.