The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 147: The Master’s Strings

Chapter 147: The Master’s Strings

The campus of Western University bore the brunt of the assault, yet, miraculously, suffered the least damage. Despite the outward signs of the attack, powerful enchantments woven through the wood and stone had preserved many of the structures, leaving the streets eerily clear. Only the Heart of the West, the enormous crystal hovering above the citadel, was broken. Its glimmering facets had dimmed, and a series of jagged fractures radiated out where the Dragon’s claws had rested.

Amidst the chaos, swells of terrified students emerged from buildings, fleeing the campus in droves. As they passed us, many gawked at the massive Earth Spirit, then at me riding in its palm. Without slowing, they rushed past, their hurried steps never faltering, as though the colossal elemental and I were but phantoms in their nightmare. Their expressions spoke of pure terror, not the determination to aid the city that one might expect in such dire circumstances. The constant explosions and magical residue surrounding the citadel reinforced that thought.

I kept a vigilant eye on the crowd, searching for a glimmer of golden hair amid the chaos. The campus was meticulously organized, with dormitories forming the outer layer and educational facilities encircling the citadel. My heart sank as we passed the final residential streets, and the flow of students dwindled. Despite the thousands we had passed, not a single student possessed Elise’s beautiful soul.

With a heavy heart, I turned my attention to the battle that must be blazing in the center. Both Soltair and Trithe were there, meaning whatever foe they fought was formidable enough to persist this long. The soaring towers of the university blocked my vision, yet I felt a heavy resonance in my soul. Demons.

Immediately, I cast a few protective spells, shrouding myself in a haze of magic. A few spirit-sized steps later, we rounded the final corner, entering the inner campus. Fires burned across the gardens, and the outer layers of the structures had all but been demolished. Long troughs and fissures marred the ground, the scars of various magical onslaughts.

Battles raged across the courtyards. Demonkin cultists, swathed in dark cloaks, clashed with students and professors. The air was filled with the clash of steel, the cries of the wounded, and the screams of the dying. In the heart of the campus, before the towering heights of the citadel, a colossal demon engaged Soltair, who stood as a tiny flicker of light against its darkness.

This monstrous creature stood as tall as the Earth Spirit, its very soul brimming with power, surpassing even the seventh level. Its form seemed to be composed of nothing more than plate and blades sheathed in shadow, an uncanny copy of the curse demon we fought before. Countless ribbons of curses wove throughout the battlefield, ensnaring students and professors, leaving them writhing helplessly on the ground.

My eyes widened as I recognized the monster, and I quickly scanned the battlefield. The demonkin’s souls were bound in curses as well, which manifested as an uncontrollable rage in their expressions. They fought like savage beasts, throwing themselves into the fray regardless of their injuries. Just how had such a force made it to the heart of the city?

"Xiviyah!" My head jerked over as Soltair’s desperate cry reached my ears. "Help Trithe!"

I followed his wild gesture and saw Trithe’s form crumpled on the ground. A curse sheathed her soul in a black miasma many times thicker than any of the others, a veil so black I was hardly able to make out her soul beyond it. I hesitated, searching for the best route to reach her, but the slave crest tingled, warning me to obey Soltair’s command.

Gritting my teeth, I urged the elemental deeper into the inner campus. Students and demonkin alike scattered before its colossal feet, many losing their balance in the tremors that shook the ground in its wake.

Before we made it far, the nearest demonkin turned towards us. Their cursed black eyes locked onto me, and with a terrifying unity, they abandoned their individual fights and swarmed toward the spirit, darkening the ground beneath us like a horde of ants. Many were struck down as they exposed their backs to the mages, but the humans quickly retreated, taking advantage of the reprieve to rally behind the professors.

I looked down at the horde of advancing demonkin, perhaps two hundred in all. They screamed incoherent battle cries and threw dozens of spells upward, filling my vision with a dazzling array of death. Waving my staff, I Soul Cast a Mirror Sphere around the spirit’s hand.

The barrier quivered beneath the onslaught of spells, glowing brighter and brighter as it absorbed their mana. Some spells struck the spirit, breaking apart its earthen flesh into a shower of gravel, but the material promptly froze mid-air, melding back into the creature seamlessly.

As the first wave of attacks subsided, I flicked my staff, activating the reflective power of the Mirror Sphere. With a blinding flash of light, the barrier released its stored mana in a single, overwhelming shockwave. The pulse raced across the battlefield in an instant, raising clouds of dust and debris in its wake. Demonkin collapsed as the dissonant field enveloped them, screaming in agony as they were consumed by a myriad of magical effects. Fire, lightning, poison, shadows, and more moved in a deadly wave, stripping the nearest demonkin of their armor, flesh, and bone. I manipulated the magical wavelength, weakening it before it reached the makeshift fortifications of the mages, unfortunately sparing some of the furthest cultists. Still, by the time the spell dissipated, almost half the inner campus had been cleared of demonkin.

The spirit charged toward the far end, smashing through the ranks of surviving cultists before they could rally. Their screams disappeared beneath its titanic feat, which fell with such power they cratered the enchanted stones of the inner campus.

The cultists had trapped a small group of students against the library wall, hurling spells against their faltering protective barriers. Amidst the blood and chaos, I spotted a gleaming figure, roasting demonkin alive with powerful Sun Magic.

"Elise!" I called, staring at the figure in shock. The elemental responded to my subconscious thoughts, halting its progress toward Trithe. No longer burdened by her curse, Elise’s soul had grown dramatically, until she no longer resembled the nervous girl from before. Now, she stood tall before the demonkin, leading her fellow housemates to battle.

Hearing my call, the Golden Princess looked up, relief coloring her face. I raised my hand, beginning a spell to reinforce their defenses, when Soltair’s shout shattered my concentration.

"Protect Trithe!"

I turned my head, gasping as I caught sight of a massive wall of darkness building on the other side of the campus. Soltair fought desperately against a handful of demonkin fodder, whose deaths allowed the curse demon precious time to weave a devastating spell. It cackled wildly, summoning more and more curses, swelling the tide of dark magic until it threatened to engulf the entire campus.

Elise! I ordered the spirit toward her, praying there was enough time. The demon released its spell, consuming everything in its path and leaving nothing but scattered bone and corroded stone in its wake. A seventh-circle spell. My eyes widened at the realization, and I hastened my efforts, charging toward my friend.

"No! Protect Trithe!" Soltair’s scream tore through the chaos, his voice laced with desperation.

In an instant, my vision blurred as a wave of searing agony swept through me. The slave crest erupted in violent crimson sparks, arcing across my body and tearing through my dress, leaving my skin raw and exposed. By the time I regained control, my body had moved beyond my command, as though I were nothing more than a marionette on strings.

With tears blurring my vision, I leaped from the spirit’s hand, diving toward Trithe on the ground below. The pain from the slave crest was gone, allowing me to summon the strength to Soul Cast a cushion of binding winds beneath me, attempting to soften the impact. The Earth Spirit hurled itself between me and the approaching wall of curses, sacrificing itself to shield me.

The winds gathered beneath me, providing some relief as I fell, but the unforgiving paving stones rushed up to meet me. I struck the ground with a sickening thud, the impact stealing the breath from my lungs. My shoulder caught on an upturned stone, igniting the Sunpurge and leaving me writhing in agony. After a series of painful rolls, I finally came to a stop, struggling to regain my bearings.

A silent groan filled the air as the Earth Spirit convulsed, its towering form ensnared in suffocating tendrils of the curse. The dark wall slowed as it penetrated the spirit’s earthen exterior, tearing away at its very soul, rapidly draining its strength. As the spirit fell, I screamed, coughing up blood and curling into a ball. Summoning magic was powerful, but if the link between a summoner and their summon was severed—whether through the death of the summon or mana disruption—the backlash was crippling.

The earth trembled as the collected earth and stone collapsed, forming a small mountain in the center of the inner campus. Its prey devoured, the wall of curses surged forward, bearing down on us. The spirit had bought us some time, but I couldn’t muster the strength to respond.

The slave crest trembled again, sending a pulse of motivational pain surging through my veins. I screamed once more, my body responding without my consent, forcing my uncooperative muscles to move. As though drawn by strings, my hand flapped limply onto Trithe’s head. Distracted as I was, I could feel the curse pulsating, gnawing at her soul and consuming her strength. Unable to concentrate enough to Soul Cast, I fumbled through the runes of the first spell I’d ever modified.

"Link Soul."

As the tide of curses swept over us, I caught a final glimpse of blonde curls beneath my hand, swaying in the harsh winds whipped up by the seventh-circle spell.

Blonde. A color far too pale to be gold.

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