When the anti-Chaos relic broke, the only thing Cillian Coinoch felt was relief. Which was then immediately followed by a wave of fear so strong that he collapsed into a heap in mid-stride. He had been pacing in his tiny cell, the only means of exercise he could do. Conversations with fellow prisoners, no sacrificial offerings, were depressing, to say the least, and even Corporal Ortiz had devolved into sour, hopeless mutters.

The Chaos absorber had been filled to the brim since yesterday, and yet it continued to draw in and condense into itself, more of the Chaos that the Fount naturally released. And finally, it broke and released all of the condensed filth in a brutal and disgusting shower that covered nearly every inch of him. The filth that was slowly, inexorably, penetrating his body and crept towards his Elemental Heart, all while leaving its stain on every cell in his body.

He felt his muscles begin to twitch. To twist. To turn.

“Argh!” he screamed, then choked, then puked. His breakfast made an encore, and the sight of it, as well as the fact that his nose was pressed against his vomit, he started dry heaving. He only managed to roll off after several minutes. He staggered up and leaned against his bunk. His mind grasped at the spell nodes that would allow him to conjure water to wash off, or failing that, purifying flame to burn everything. Including his clothes, his skin, his flesh, and his bones. But even as his fingers twitched to begin the somatic components, the Chaos in the air clashed with the approaching Elemental energies, melded with it, and produced something that he couldn’t use. He could only stare as the skin around his hands began to darken, thicken…and grew scales.

_____________

Monica Coinoch flinched at the shadows darting around in the mists. She mastered her reactions quickly, her fingers poised to cast a spell. Her body was already protected by a near-invisible coating of solidified flame. Being a True Magus and Grasping one of Truths of Flame, the nature of Fire Elemental energy was mutable to her Intent and Will.

The odd woman, Yuriko Davar, walked at her ease right next to her. She couldn’t help but continue to give the gorgeous woman a side glance every now and then, even if she knew that Yuriko noticed it every single time. In fact, she almost seemed to preen every time attention was given, especially clad in that flimsy dress that all but exposed every curve. Granted, her skin was smooth and creamy, and Monica wouldn’t mind finding out how soft to the touch it could be…

Blinking in surprise, Monica let out a huff of steam from her nostrils. Was she a teenager in the first blush of infatuation? Yuriko Davar was gorgeous, but she never made any signs that she would welcome anything more than an appreciative look. Old as she was, Monica had already buried two husbands and a wife. She’d also come out of mourning just this year, but that didn’t mean she wanted any entanglements so soon. Well, maybe a passionate evening would be nice…

Gods, Yuriko’s Fascination aura was too strong. It must be part of her Elemental Truth for it to affect Monica as well as be constantly active. She noticed the attention everyone paid the youthful-looking professor back in the Blossoming Vines. Hmmm, maybe Cillian was after her too, despite the age gap. If circumstances permit, she would either help him or make the attempt herself.

Idle thoughts were confined to her lesser strands of consciousness, while the greater part of her attention was in her surroundings. As such, she was more than ready when one of the shadows suddenly closed in.

“Fire.”

She cast a simple spell, Produce Fire, which ignited the air above her palm. From there, she used her intrinsic spell, Fire Manipulation, to enlarge, expand, and then contract the weak candle flame into a conflagration that rushed to overwhelm the shadowed form. The flames morphed into a large hand, then grasped the creature, and brought it close enough to see.

Monica pursed her lips. This type of creature here wasn’t a good sign.

“Hunter…” Yuriko murmured.

It was a Stalker, actually, but the other woman’s Wojan was oddly accented and clearly was not Bresian, so she could be forgiven for the misnomer. The Stalker hissed against the burning hand as Monica examined the creature to determine how old it was. The scales were relatively pristine except where it began to char. The leg scales rippled as it attempted to keep its camouflaging ability active, but it was useless to her. Detection spells were always active even if it took one of her concurrent spell slots. Knowing that there was an enemy and knowing where to strike was just as important as her firepower.

“Young,” she said out loud. “Less than a day. We still have time. Not much. Barely enough. Let’s hurry.” With a casual gesture, the hand clenched. The Stalker was crunched into a pulp, then caught fire. Monica discarded the body to the side of the trail and continued her jog. After a moment, Yuriko followed behind her.

“You’re not going to take the shard within it?”

“I don’t have the tools to contain it.” Monica shook her head. Without a specialised container, the Stalker’s core would evaporate outside of the Fount, and possibly mutate everything around it.

“I see.” Yuriko gestured with a finger and a golden shard emerged from her bosom and darted into the surrounding mists. A moment later…

Gragh!

A fierce cry that was suddenly choked off. Another golden shard brimming with Heat and Fire darted out and killed another Stalker.

Monica hummed in appreciation. Yuriko was quite competent if she could kill these things with ease.

No, what was she thinking? Yuriko only looked young. She was also a True Magi and that level of power was to be expected. Hmmm, maybe her typical strategy in a fight was to be underestimated? Despite knowing better, Monica had certainly fallen for her bias.

The golden shards continued to dart into the mists and each time, it was punctuated by horrid screams and pained roars. She didn’t have to do anything else, but she kept her fiery hand hovering around her. The ramp continued downwards, and soon enough, the mists lifted and revealed that they were now confronted with a group of Creeplings. The hexapods were covered in chitin. These ones were coloured brown and green, denoting the Elemental essences they commanded. There were a dozen of them on the trail, and as soon as they approached, the creatures hissed and rushed at them.

Monica’s fiery hand intercepted one, then she cast a Fire Bolt and set it to continue casting. Bolt after bolt of shaped and solidified flames struck the Creeplings, punctured their armoured chitin, and set their insides on fire. Half of them went towards her, while the other half rushed Yuriko. The beautiful woman snorted derisively, flicked her fingers, then crushed the Creeplings into the ground, then pulverized them into dust. Monica noted the golden hue that covered the monsters.

So. Light, heat, and force?

Wordlessly, the two of them hurried down the path. There were no branches they could take, just a straightforward slog against dozens, then hundreds of Creeplings, the occasional Stalker, and spurts of annoying mists. She could feel time running out.

“Let’s hurry,” she muttered, and Yuriko nodded in agreement. Both of them engaged their flight spells and propelled themselves through the horde, spending their mental stamina with little regard.

Where was the resistance? Where were the Rapturians? The Fount had all the markings of one of their melting pots. She could feel her relic struggling to resist the Chaos’ encroachment, and while she had a stronger mind and body due to her Elemental Heart’s rank, it only provided a limited margin of safety if the relic failed. Yuriko Davar did not look concerned over the increasing concentration of Chaos, but then again, according to Olivia Biera, the young-looking woman was a veteran traveller of the Shattered Realm. The few idle thoughts they shared informed Monica of the remarkably well-made flying ship Professor Davar owned that was more suited to travel outside of the civilised world.

The deeper they went, the thicker the fog. The thicker the fog, the more dangerous the concentration of Chaos became. And it was only when her relic was hot enough to burn that they began to see the prison cells.

Monica’s eyes darted to the relics pinned above each doorway. The shattered remnants nearly drowned out her hope, but a second look showed her that the relics were only freshly broken. There was still a chance!

She cast Locate Person and the feedback led to the lower rows. She rushed down the hallway, ignoring the locked doors, only for Yuriko to say, “There are prisoners inside.”

Gritting her teeth, Monica said, “Can you take care of them?”

“...alright.”

She heard the doors being wrenched open, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. The hallway seemed to extend into an unimaginable distance, but it was less than a longstride before the feedback of her spell finally told her which cell it was. She couldn’t hear anything from inside, and when she touched the metal door, she winced at the heat. Not that she was burned, but it was clearly not normal. The Chaos relic above it was also shattered, but like the others, it looked to have happened recently.

The door wouldn’t open. She blasted the outside hinges with intense flame and slowly melted them off. She took control of the heat and vented it away from the door, and also focused on the weak points. Soon enough, the hinges melted off and the door fell towards her, secured by her mental grip.

What she saw inside made her grind her teeth in anger.

Cillian was unconscious, vomit covered his shirt. His face was normal, but his hands…they were in flux. She could see his muscles twitching violently, and his skin thickened and looked almost like leather. She didn’t waste any more time. She dashed towards him and pressed her anti-Chaos relic, a spare she always kept with her, against his body. The pulsating muscles slowed, and green tendrils rose from his body and were shoved into the relic.

Parts of the transformation receded, but most of his right arm changed. It looked like nothing more than a Buwak tribesman’s arm, a crocodilian beastkin. His left arm returned to its normal human shape, though his fingernails there had been replaced with dark claws.

She pulled her grandson out of the cell, applied a levitation spell on the mattress, and ripped it out of the bunk. With the floating stretcher, she walked out into the hallway, only to see Yuriko Davar floating a dozen freed prisoners behind her. They were covered in the same golden light she used to crush the Creeplings, and while the prisoners were unconscious, their skin was sizzling and smoke rose out of their bodies.

“What’s happening to them?”

“Hmm, purification,” Yuriko said. “I’m burning the Chaos taint off their bodies and keeping it away from them.” She nodded towards the hallway. “I sense more prisoners.”

“I see.”

Monica followed behind the surprising woman as she observed the floating victims. They were of disparate races, though most were surprisingly a gaggle of catkin. Or maybe they were changed into catkin? Beastkin ancestors were from human stock, but not all of them had been changed by Chaos. The catkin especially had been purposely modified by the divine.

Yuriko arrived at the next cell and she ripped the metal door off its hinges with her hand. She simply stabbed the door with her fingers, grasped it, then yanked. Impressive physical reinforcement.

Inside was an Ib’honara man, also unconscious. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him, and when Yuriko took his unconscious body with her kinetic manipulation, no smoke or hissing happened. There were a couple more prisoners down the hall, quickly rescued and purified.

But from the third door onwards, the only thing they found were empty cells. Or corpses.