Chapter 123

Nick struggled to push himself upright from where the detonation had left him half-buried in ash. Each breath he drew smelled of burning cinders, and his ribs throbbed in pain.Slowly, carefully, he rose onto his hands and knees, blinking gritty dust from his eyelashes. No matter how many times he coughed, he couldn’t clear the ashy taste from his mouth. Yet he was alive.

He took a moment to scan for immediate danger, letting unfurl, and was immediately shocked. The raging swirl of wind the wyverns had woven was gone. Not weakened, not redirected. Gone.

He peered up and was immediately forced to shut his eyes as sunlight greeted him. Where clouds had once been heavy with ash, now, for at least two miles in circumference, there was only empty blue. This ring was bordered by swirling masses of dark pyroclastic smoke that rumbled with occasional flickers of lightning.

His wonder was brief. The hint of relief died as a new wave of pressure crashed against his senses. .

Shakily, he turned his gaze back to ground level. No matter where he looked, he couldn’t find the thing they had summoned, but his senses kept insisting it was still around. Sure enough, a few seconds later, he spotted a swirl of ash rising from the ground.

Near the center of the battlefield, the construct was reforming. Unleashing that massive wave of dark flames must have been beyond its limits, yet it was not done. Within a minute, it had already become recognizable, though its limbs were still stubby masses of glowing embers.

It wouldn’t take long for it to be done reforming, as Nick saw ash stirring across the battlefield, drawn by an invisible pull. Great handfuls of cinder and dust slid along the earth, slithering up onto its hulking frame like metal shavings drawn to a magnet.

Tearing his eyes away from the sight, Nick finally looked at the other large presences in his range. The bodies of several wyverns littered the battlefield. Missing wings and charred scales explained what had led to their demise. Still, there were not enough bodies for it to be the whole flock, and he doubted he was lucky enough that they had been turned to ash. That meant the colossus still had a job to do.

He fumbled mentally for the link he had felt in the fleeting moment after its creation, but there was nothing. No thread of control, no ephemeral bond. He tried to will it to turn its attention upward, but it offered no acknowledgment.

Several System notifications blinked at the edges of his vision—likely details about the kill rewards for the wyverns or the summoning. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to check them. Nick forced himself to stand, ignoring the pain in his knees. If the colossus was not being controlled, they could be in more danger than they had been with the wyverns alone.

“Nicholas!” a hoarse voice called. He turned to see Marthas hobbling toward him. The man’s face was a mask of grime and dried blood, with rivers of crimson trailing from his eyes and ears. Clearly, the botched summoning had greatly damaged him, even more than it had Nick. And yet, he was still on his feet.

Where Marthas had the resilience of a Prestige class to protect him, and had saved Nick from possession, the two priests had nothing to shield them, and they lay prone behind the Prelate, dead. Nick felt a pang of sorrow. The cost of this fiasco was mounting.

Marthas braced himself against the remains of a charred trunk, breathing hard. “It’s… still active,” he managed, voice heavy with pain. “But it’s not… answering my…commands.”

“Mine either. The connection snapped off.” Unfortunately, they didn’t have time to decide on a course of action because several bellows echoed from above.

Five battered wyverns swooped down from the sky, and Nick noticed savage burns across their scales and welts where the dark flames must have hit them. Two of them even flew with an awkward, listing motion, visibly missing large sections of their wing membrane.

Again, Nick extended a portion of what little mana was left in him towards the colossus, trying to will it to react, but nothing happened.

Before he could despair, Marthas smeared some of his blood on his throat and bellowed, “Strike them down!”

His eyes lit with a final surge of righteous fervor, and something in his tone carried a vestige of divine power. The colossus finally reacted, slowly turning towards them.

Another terrifying moment of silence stretched until it roared and pivoted toward the descending wyverns. Ash swirled around its arms as it readied itself for combat.

It waited until the wyverns were closer, displaying a surprising amount of understanding, before unleashing a volley of molten projectiles from its arms.

The beasts scattered in a flurry of flapping wings and shrieking roars, but several blasts exploded mid-maneuver, scorching already burned scales and provoking even more furious screeches.

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Thus began a furious dance, and the wyverns responded by releasing their formidable magic. Razor-sharp gusts sliced chunks of ashen flesh from the colossus’s arms, severing entire layers of newly formed matter. It roared in pain or rage, staggering, only to reabsorb more ash from the ground to rebuild itself and engage once more.

It reminded Nick eerily of his , similar in scale to when he’d used dozens of fae as batteries. The colossus devoured the battlefield’s detritus, fueling its regeneration even as the wyverns struck it, seemingly impossible to put down. But conversely, it couldn’t land a decisive blow, as the wyverns soared and banked, relying on gusts of wind to enhance their mobility, allowing them to avoid both molten rocks and plumes of fire.

It was a stalemate, Nick realized with dismay. The colossus would regenerate indefinitely while the wyverns systematically dissected it from a safe altitude. He suspected that eventually, the colossus would get lucky with a lethal shot, but that was hardly guaranteed, and with how indiscriminate the flying monsters were, they couldn’t afford to find out.

Many of the surviving men were too wounded to do more than hunker down behind debris and try not to get caught in the crossfire, but a quick look told Nick that the wyverns they had been fighting had been taken out in the explosion.

Then, a surge of hope: Nick spotted a figure sprinting across the battlefield, cloak billowing, sword flickering with lightning. Arthur was dirty and injured but undeniably alive. His arrival altered the entire dynamic as he joined the colossus in attacking from below, forcing the wyverns to widen their focus. Nick’s heart surged with cautious optimism.

But as soon as the old swordsman pressed the advantage, jumping up to try and ground one of them, the wyverns changed tactics. They bellowed, and one soared overhead, unleashing a fierce wind bomb that blasted the ground near Eugene’s regrouped men, sending them scattering. Another summoned a swirling vortex that threatened to ensnare the colossus from behind.

The chaotic scene intensified, with deadly blasts crisscrossing the sky with renewed ferocity. Ash swirled in violent eddies. The colossus retaliated with larger waves of flame, blotting out patches of the sky in dark flames. The men on the ground had to retreat, or risk being caught in the crossfire.

Arthur changed tactics and approached from the side, shooting lightning from his blade. The speed of his maneuver allowed him to cut through a swooping wyvern’s flank in midair, leaving a smoking wound. The beast shrieked, losing altitude.

Immediately, Eugene followed through with a fire beam, punching a hole in its other wing. Screeching piteously, the battered creature crashed into the ground, where a flurry of soldiers swarmed it, stabbing and slashing until they ended its misery. The men roared in triumph at their victory.

Buoyed by success, the combined efforts from the colossus’s fiery onslaught, Arthur’s lightning bolts, Eugene’s beams, and the battered but determined adventurers chipped away at the remaining wyverns.

Each was already severely injured. Now, with coordinated strikes, they were no longer unstoppable. One by one, the giant reptiles fell. Some tumbled from the sky in limp freefall; others were left shrieking and flailing as they crashed. After ten minutes of intense, chaotic fighting, the five were whittled down to two, then one, until finally, the last collapsed, a smoking ruin smothered by an ashen arm.

But even as the joy of victory spread across the field, Nick barely heard it, as his attention was on the colossus. By all rights, a summon should vanish once its foes were destroyed—especially if it was called to accomplish that goal alone.

Yet, the towering figure of ash and soot remained where it was.

Marthas raised his voice again, but it lacked the power it once had, “Return… return to your plane!”

The colossus made no sign of compliance. Instead, it turned slowly in Nick’s direction, its ember eyes narrowing as if fixating on him specifically. A hush gripped the battlefield, and the men’s cheers abruptly stifled. The creature took a single step, shaking the earth. The swirl of soot around it hissed and crackled.

Nick’s stomach lurched with foreboding. He had no reason to be singled out. But then again, he was the one who had channeled the energy in that botched summoning. He had apparently endowed it with a version of .

The tension shattered when Arthur, reading the cues, hurled a massive lightning bolt at the colossus, striking it square in the shoulder.

Nick expected it to reel back, but shockingly, it did not move. Instead, it tanked the hit, absorbing it into its mass. The swirling embers expanded, and its giant arms bulged with fresh lumps of molten dust.

A shocked cry escaped some of the men. Arthur cursed under his breath, jumping back. The colossus twisted to face him but then pivoted again toward Nick once it was clear the old man wouldn’t attack again. A horrible realization struck him: with each attack it consumed, it would grow.

Marthas gritted his teeth, stepping forward despite his battered state. “Stop,” he commanded. “Your purpose is fulfilled! I command you in Sashara’s name—”

But the colossus’s only response was a rumbling hiss, ignoring the Prelate’s authority. Its arms ignited in black flame, and molten cinders began swirling around them menacingly. Then, it took another step in Nick’s direction, evidently having decided on its target.

“Get away from it!” Eugene shouted, already unleashing a beam of fire at the colossus’s flank. The unstoppable creature shrugged it off, pausing just long enough to absorb the flames. Then, it resumed its lumbering steps, ignoring the other threats. The men scattered, uncertain whether to keep attacking or flee.

A weird calm fell over Nick’s mind as he assessed the situation. And that was not something he could allow.

He bit his lip. Ogden had said to use the box only if everything was truly hopeless. This might qualify. Yet even now, Nick hesitated. The colossus had just gone through a grueling fight; maybe it wasn’t unstoppable. And who knew what horrors the black box might unleash? The memory of the alchemist’s warning still echoed in his mind. It could save or doom them all—there was no guarantee.

As subtly as he could, Nick began to carve a specific set of runes three hundred feet behind him.

He stepped back a pace, and the colossus advanced, accompanied by a swirl of cinders. The closer it got, the stronger Nick’s sense that it was hungry, as more soot and ash from all around was dragged towards it.

Arthur rushed in for another strike, this time unleashing a wave of water. Unfortunately, it lacked the raw power of his lightning and exploded into steam before reaching its target. The colossus flailed a limb toward Arthur, sending a surge of superheated cinders that forced him to dodge. Eugene attempted another attack from the side, but the colossus simply shrugged it off. Everything they tried just kept failing.

Nick didn’t allow fear to consume him, instead focusing on carving more runes. He had no idea if it would work, but he saw no other option besides the black box, and he wasn’t ready for that yet.

A hush settled. Soldiers leveled their crossbows, but no one fired, worried about inadvertently strengthening the monster. The colossus took another step forward, now a scant twenty feet from Nick. He could feel its heat like a furnace and see the swirling coals that formed its chest cavity. Its ember eyes flared, then glowed with something akin to ravenous glee.

He could sense a gnawing pull emanating from within it, seeking to latch onto his mana. He braced, sweat dripping from his temples. . If the colossus consumed him, it would probably become unstoppable. An image of the ever-growing monster making its way towards Floria flashed through his mind, and Nick knew he couldn’t let that happen.

Finally, he finished his circle and began running towards it, this time actually trying to get away.

His speed at this point would have been classified as superhuman on Earth, but that didn’t carry much weight here, where a simple guardsman possessed the same physical attributes. The colossus only had to take a few steps to reach him.

The runes began glowing.