The female cyborg attacked him for an additional four seconds before her body, too, seized, and she dropped unconscious at his feet. 97 seconds. The fight had taken less than two minutes, and Arthur was exhausted. Not physically; Arthur didn’t think that was possible at this point, but fighting such exceptional fighters simultaneously had left him mentally drained.
It was also the most damage he'd ever taken from a fight, including the self-inflicted soul damage he’d suffered battling Esmerald. While his vision had arguably hindered him a lot more, he’d lost significantly more of his soul today, a little over 11% if his reduced stats were anything to go by. Vira had helped him heal the previous injury by utilising his own skills, but fixing his missing hand might prove a little more difficult.
Arthur cursed. This was a setback he hadn’t seen coming. He was running low on time. Today marked his eleventh day on Haadran, which meant he had three, maybe four days before the pursuers in his home-realm became aware of his existence again. Arthur wasn’t sure of the exact time differential between realms, but he knew it wasn’t anything too extreme. Less than 100 hours then. That’s what he had to work with.
And here he was, right in the final stretch, and he’d gone and lost 11% of his damn soul. It wasn’t so much that he was afraid of permanent harm—he was a healer and a soul mage, after all—but the timing of things couldn’t have been worse. Right when he’d need to start preparing to face the Avatar of this fallen world.
Arthur sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. Hijacking one of Wovan’s bodies, Arthur observed that she was wrapping things up on her end, too. The monster horde had been far more deadly than he’d expected. His soul splinter had lost three of her bodies, which was alarming, though Wovan was adamant that the losses had only come about to get some foolish humans out of harm's way.
It seemed his pet Ender had some serious problems with him thinking she was struggling with these weak enemies. Who’d have thought a spider could be so arrogant? Turning his attention back to the assassins at his feet, Arthur rubbed his temples. Or temple, since he only had a single hand to work with now. This was going to be a real headache.
Arthur was slightly tempted to just kill the pair and get rid of the problem altogether. The dull throb of pain where his hand used to be seemed to pulse in agreement. Unfortunately, his conscience prevented him from being so callous. Rosano had spared his life, clearly at great detriment to himself. Arthur wasn’t blind, nor was he a fool.
The would-be assassins weren’t machines, no matter how strange their movements had been, which meant… Well, Arthur wasn’t too sure. His mind came up with several scenarios, and none of them were pretty. Sighing, he rolled Rosano onto his back. Searching the man revealed a cache of weapons, concealed daggers, poisoned needles, and a spool of wire sharp enough to cut Arthur's skin. He also had two storage devices, a bracelet and a ring, which he promptly removed.
Searching the woman revealed a similar assortment of weapons, though she only had one storage item in the form of a necklace. Finished with his mundane analysis, Arthur placed a hand on Rosano's chest. He hesitated for a second. What exactly would he find?
Arthur's first diagnostic scan was underwhelming. His healing ether showed him nothing but a man with significant injuries, most of them lacerations caused by excessive strain and some severe trauma to the skull. Arthur ignored those results and pushed deeper, finally coming across some resistance. The magical interference was expected, the ten million volts of electricity that suddenly shocked his body, not so much.
Arthur's vision flickered, and he lost consciousness for a brief second before bouncing back. Whoever was responsible for this, they’d gone to great lengths to cover their tracks. Arthur was prepared for the second surprise, a mechanical bomb implanted right next to Rosano’s liver, which Arthur quickly pulled out before it detonated. It wasn’t his best surgical attempt. The man now had a gaping hole in his stomach, but judging by the fact that Arthur lost three of his fingers trying to contain the explosion in his hand, he’d just saved Rosano’s life.
Even unconscious, the assassin was doing everything he could to take Arthur’s remaining hand. Two more mechanical traps later, Arthur was sure he’d finally gotten rid of everything. Finally, he got a good look at what exactly had been done to Rosano. The answers proved his worst suspicions and more. Every part of Rosano had been altered; his body was about as different to a standard human's as a tree, so many alterations that Arthur couldn’t begin to make heads or tails of it.
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What interested him more, however, was the mechanical skeleton overlayed over his regular one, which Arthur suspected had been the cause of the machine-like movements earlier. It was also, Arthur believed, the reason why the man's will and emotions had been so opposed to the actions his body had carried out.
These modifications were almost certainly illegal, and the implications of slavery that were as clear as day didn’t make things any better. Arthur was certain he’d find similar modifications on the woman, but sadly, his time had run out. Wovan teleported into the room, thirty-seven of her bodies, while the remaining four quickly made their way out of the city. Arthur always tried to be optimistic, but his life always had a way of going pear-shaped.
Not even thirty seconds later, Maverick burst into his room, Vira, David and his entourage of soldiers at his heels. The giant man levelled his massive war axe at Arthur, the veins at his temples throbbing. This time, it didn’t look like Vira was willing to intervene.
“Explain,” Maverick growled. “No lies, no bullshit stories. I want to know what happened. The facts only.”
Arthur frowned, about to retort, but stopped himself. He tried to put himself in Maverick’s shoes. Bastion, the city that had been the haven of humanity, had been breached for the first time in a millennium, right after they’d decided to welcome a stranger. What looked like the two culprits of the sabotage lay in his room, bloodied and unconscious. When he looked at things like that, it made sense that Maverick was so angry.
“Wovan’s evolution knocked me unconscious,” Arthur began. “I woke up around five minutes ago, only to realise all the sentries outside were gone. That's when I realised something was wrong. Two minutes later, these two over here attacked me, sent by those who want me dead in the Myopan realm, I suspect. I’m guessing they’re also the ones responsible for the east gate failure.”
“I was prepared to kill them until I realised they were puppeteered into attacking me. They’re naught but slaves acting on the whims of another.”
Maverick's eyes narrowed. “Slave or not, there are always consequences for one's actions.” Raising his axe, he brought it down on Rosano’s skull. Or at least he tried to. Arthur’s hand was in the way, or at least what was left of it after the bomb. The blade dug a half centimetre into his flesh, but didn’t do much more than that. Maverick hadn’t put a lot of strength into the blow.
“You would defend those who stole your arm.”
“I would defend those who’d spared my life,” Arthur replied calmly. “The east gate fell a lot longer than five minutes ago, didn’t it. It takes less than a minute to reach this room from there, at least for assassins on this level, but I was only attacked when I’d woken up and gotten my bearings.”
“A slave who decided to die for his freedom, then,” Maverick snarled, applying more pressure on his axe.
Arthur's hand remained steady, no blood flowing from his deepening wound.
“No, a slave worth saving.”
Maverick's glare intensified, and Arthur tensed. Wovan was quite far from the city now. It seemed like his caution would pay off.
“Enough, Maverick Abedson.” Vira hadn’t shouted, but the way Maverick startled in place, she might as well have. “You’re not in your right state of mind now. Leave us be.”
Maverick seemed about to retort, but then the energy drained out of him. He deflated like a balloon, looking small for the first time since Arthur had seen him.
“I’m sorry,” Maverick said softly. Arthur wasn’t sure if the apology was meant for Vira or himself or perhaps someone else altogether. Placing his war-axe on his back, Maverick turned and left the room, David's soldiers parting around him like he was a plague-bearer. The room was quiet for an awkwardly long moment after his departure.
“You’ll have to forgive him, Arthur,” Vira sighed wearily, “his nephew died in that battle. He was the last family the old man had.”
Arthur had suspected as much, but hearing it spoken as fact was sobering. It looked like Wovan's back-up had arrived a little late.
"All water under the bridge," Arthur said, "he showed far more restraint than I could have in his shoes.”
“So then, how was it? Was Wovan’s evolution successful?”
Arthur smiled. “I thought you’d never ask. Right now, you're looking at the first man, perhaps ever, who can wield both the powers of ether and corruption.”
Vira chuckled, but it came out more harsh than humorous. “I’m glad then. We’ll need the help of such a man if we want to survive to see the end of this week.”
Arthur frowned. “What do you mean?”
Vira laughed again. This time, she definitely sounded a little insane. “Arthur, my boy. Your friendly assassins over here just sabotaged the defences that have protected Bastion for a thousand years. They’re failing now, gone, zilch, nada, and any artificer who knew how to fix it died long before I was born.”
“We needed that hand of yours fixed yesterday, so it looks like I’m accepting my first disciple, Arthur Ward.” A deafening boom echoed throughout the city, and the floor beneath them shook. “You said you came to Haadran for power, right. I pray you find it.”
Vira smiled.
“Shylo is coming.”
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