The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 130: Buried

Chapter 130: Buried

Once, as a girl, many years ago on Earth, I’d visited a nearby tourist location: a cave. The tour guides had taken us deep through narrow caverns and twisted tunnels, explaining the various limestone and stalactite formations. Then, as we reached the zenith of the tour, they cut the lights and plunged us into darkness. It was a blackness so whole and complete it was suffocating, and I remember screaming in fear for the lights to come back on.

Those moments in the dark were nothing compared to the excruciating terror of the darkness that enveloped us now. Although the darkness held no mysteries to me, I squeezed my eyes shut anyway. The tremendous weight of the earth pressed in on us from all directions, straining the Earthen Walls to their breaking point, filling the air with suffocating pressure. I poured all my mana into the barriers, unable to spare so much as a thought for anything else.

Three seconds. That was how long it took for Soltair to summon a Divine Star. By that point, the shifting of the earth had settled, relieving much of my stress, but our predicament was obvious. We huddled in a ten-foot cube of air amid a sea of stone, with as much as a quarter mile separating us from the surface.

Soltair sighed, collapsing onto a nearby rock. "Is everyone alright?"

His words echoed hollowly through the cave, and we all nodded. Trithe sat beside him, tucking her knees beneath her chin and leaning up against him. Fyren leaned up against the wall, arms crossed, and eyed the hero intently.

"Did anyone see what happened?" he asked.

Trithe raised her head, glancing up at the ceiling before speaking. "It was hard to see, but I think the cultists got caught up in the shockwave and died."

"So that’s what happened. Damn it!" Fyren cursed. "What a weakling. Why bother seeking a power you can’t control?"

"At least the dragon’s free," I said softly.

"Free?" Soltair asked, his voice dripping with derision. "Free to do what? To destroy a city? You know its power as well as I, and that was from one attack. If we don’t track it down soon, it’s going to recover its power, and we’ll never be able to defeat it."

"Calm down," Trithe murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. "Let’s focus on getting out of here first."

Soltair huffed but lowered his voice obediently. "Fine, you’re right. Any ideas other than digging ourselves out?"

"The air won’t last long," Fyren observed, "probably only a day or two. But with the three of us working, we shouldn’t have any problem finding another air pocket or two. Anything you have, Xiviyah?"

Their expectant gazes weighed on me heavily as I shook my head. "I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d need to learn so much earth magic. I’ve been so focused on Life and Fate magic that I-"

"It’s fine. There’s no need to be so apologetic," Trithe muttered.

"Yeah, we weren’t expecting anything anyway. If you could do anything to help, I’m sure you would," Soltair said, smiling at me gently.

His words, seemingly given as an expression of assurance, lanced through my heart. What do you mean? I thought bitterly. No, I can’t even...

I decided to retreat, pretending exhaustion. "I’m going to get some sleep," I muttered, pulling a blanket from my satchel.

Soltair tilted his head as I rose, blinking his eyes in confusion. "What’s up with her?" he asked, glancing at Trithe.

She shrugged, murmuring something back, but I didn’t have the strength to listen. I collapsed against the far wall and conjured a Sound Ward, modifying the spell to block sound from entering. I wasn’t concerned about being struck by debris as they began to excavate our path; the Blade Ward was still active, capable of stopping attacks many times more powerful than a simple boulder.

Although my body screamed for rest, sleep hovered on the edges of my mind, ever threatening but refusing to claim me. Why was it my efforts went unrewarded? Every day, I pushed myself beyond my limits studying and training, yet now, when it mattered most, I was helpless in the face of our predicament. Had my contributions during the fight even mattered? A new thought, far more dangerous than my instinctive insecurities, wormed its way into my mind.

How powerful had that dragon’s breath been? What about after it clashed with Soltair’s magical technique? While Soltair and Trithe hadn’t yet mentioned my ability to protect them from the collapsing mountain, I knew they hadn’t forgotten. Not because of gratitude, as they likely believed they could have survived everything on their own, but out of suspicion. Could I deny the power of Adaptive Resistance any longer?

I cautiously called upon the ability and tested the slave crest. My gentle probes sank into the curse magic, which sheathed my soul in black ribbons. It was at the peak of seventh level, perhaps the beginning of eighth, but it trembled before the blazing light of Adaptive Resistance. But even as the curse shuddered, it refused to give entirely. Just a little more...

I gasped as the crest stubbornly persisted, its resistance tearing at my soul, sending a tingle of pain through my veins. It was the same result as before, only I felt...closer. The light punishment sapped whatever strength I held, and I soon fell into a fitful sleep. Occasionally, I awoke to Fyren’s arms lifting me from my rest and moving me further up the tunnel, allowing them more room to pile excavated material.

I drifted through slumber, free of time and thought, until a bright light shone through my eyelids. Drowsy and unable to think clearly, I protested, rolling over to cover my eyes with my arm. They probably just started using magical techniques to increase their efforts. I was about to drift off once more when a strange, amplified screech echoed through the air.

I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly in the blinding light to clear my vision before looking around. The dark depths of the rock and earth forming the roof of the cave had vanished, replaced by a sky of endless stars. I sat up, rubbing my eyes in disbelief and staring at the picturesque courtyard around me. Thick green vines coiled around statues, fountains, and the carved marble bench I lay on. Flawless white stone paved the ground and covered the low walls. A large crystal floated above a shrine in the middle of the courtyard, bathing the area in soft light.

I stood and found an open gate through walls, through which I could see the distant lights of a city. The dark silhouette of a mountain loomed behind me, framing the towering spires of the citadel at the city’s center. A large crystal floated above the central tower, bathing the city in light. From my perspective in the courtyard, it seemed I was on an adjacent peak overlooking a fortress of some kind.

Before I could observe further, an earth-shattering roar shook the air, raising goosebumps across my arms. It was a familiar cry, the last thing I heard before a dragon dropped a mountain on us. Immediately after, the crystal above the citadel winked out, plunging the region into darkness.

The fiery blue light of the dragon appeared high in the sky, rapidly descending toward the city. As it approached, countless streams of magic burst upward, consuming the creature in an explosion of ice, lightning, sun, and fire.

The blasts of magic created a show far more beautiful than any firework, filling the sky with veritable clouds of color, but the dragon’s dive continued unhindered. Mana gathered in its mouth, the same as before, and I held my breath. A visible shockwave erupted from its jaws as its breath weapon surged forth, devastating a swath of the city from wall to wall. Even from my perch high above, I could hear the mournful wails of the survivors in the ruined streets.

The dragon passed by thrice more, each time targeting the areas where the magical retaliation was densest. Soon, the city offered nothing more than token resistance, and the dragon settled down, hovering before the last remaining tower: the central citadel.

In the cavern, the dragon had seemed big, but there was no clear reference. Now, stretched out in the sky, I could fully appreciate the sheer enormity of the creature. Its head was level with the topmost spire of the keep, and its tail dragged along the ground, hundreds of feet below. The air churned with every beat of its wings, creating chaotic vortexes in the ruined streets.

As the dragon flapped closer to the tower, gathering mana in its mouth once more, the vision erupted into scattered light. I sat up, soaked in a cold sweat, and looked around. Soltair, Trithe, and Fyren rested on the other side of the cavern, undoubtedly weary after hours of hard labor. Even their monstrous fortitudes required rest, here and there.

Free of prying eyes, I lifted my hand, looking at my fingers for a moment before summoning a thread of mana. As morbid as the vision had been, it wasn’t without benefits.