The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 755: Strength Renewed

Chapter 755: Strength Renewed

Rash’alon’s blade slipped beneath his guard, scoring a shallow cut along his bicep. Luke hissed in pain and jumped back, waving his sword to get some space. A black curse wound around his arm, seeping into the cut. The skin turned ashen, his veins black like worms. Luke’s sword point wavered, his lips drawing in a thin line.

"You should have taken my offer," Rash’alon said, walking toward him with an unhurried gait. "You’re strong, but your understanding of curses barely scratches the surface. I’ve only used elementary techniques, and yet you’ve fallen this far. We both could have had what we wanted, and yet in this petty act of passion, you’ve done nothing but deny yourself power. Once I kill you, I’ll step over your corpse and claim the slave."

"I won’t lose to you," Luke snarled.

"You already have."

Rash’alon stopped and raised his hand. Luke’s hands flew to his chest, and he screamed, falling ot one knee as the corruption surged.

"You absorbed too much mana, didn’t you. Even if you survive this encounter, you’ll be dead. Your slave might be able to heal sunpurge, but corruption is beyond any mortal. I almost wish to lose here, just to see the pain and anguish in your face as she holds you close, sobbing. Helpless as she’s always been."

"No! Luke..." I cried, my voice lost in the tempest of mana swirling around them.

Rash’alon approached the fallen apostle, his sword raised. There was no time to think, no time to hesitate. I had nothing but vague recollections of the shadows of Tormod’s Gap, just enough to grab my mana and force it to the surface. Adaptive Resistance tried to hide, but I willed it to obey, shaping it just as I had done against Nithalee’s magic barrier. Golden light exploded from my skin, consuming the darkness in a small bubble around me. My soul grew hot from, strained by the friction generated by applying my ability so crudely.

"Luke!" I cried, stretching out my hand. "Nexus!"

Blazing ribbons of mana shot out of my hand, entangling his soul. He gasped, convulsing as they forcibly burrowed into his soul. The moment our souls linked, a searing spike of pain lanced through my mind. Ever since our souls entangled, they’d been dangerously vulnerable to each other. Brute forcing the link through the curse magic had been a step too far, and now I paid the price, clutching my head as memories, thoughts, and feelings forced their way into my mind.

I stiffened as Rash’alon’s aura focused on me, and I knew I’d drawn his attention. The pain was near blinding, competing with my tears to blur my vision, but I didn’t care. He had been standing above Luke, sword raised. I couldn’t let him kill him!

"Link Ability," I whispered, coughing a mouthful of blood.

Starlight surged through the Nexus, soaking into Luke’s soul. He jerked into motion, instinctively raising his sword as Rash’alon brought his blade down. They met in an explosion of infernal mana. Luke was thrown from the blast, ending up only a dozen feet from me, blood trickling down his lips. He clutched his chest with one hand, his sword in the other, and struggled to his feet.

He started to speak, but winced, holding his head as he, too, suffered the backlash.

"My curses...?" Rash’alon muttered, looking at us curiously. "Is your ability truly so powerful? I could have sworn it had failed to absorb my sixth-circle spells in our last encounter."

I ran to Luke, more used to the backlash than he. His skin was hot to my touch, his aura pounding against me in vile waves. I fought the urge to cry as I struggled to lift his weight. The best I could manage was getting him into something of a sitting position.

"Luke, speak to me," I cried.

He blinked in a daze, the fog slowly leaving his eyes. "Xiviyah...? No, it can’t be...’

"It’s me!" I hugged his head to my chest, staring up at Rash’alon. He stood a dozen paces before us, unmoving. He didn’t need to, for there was little we could do against him.

Luke shook his head, his hand rising to touch my cheek. I stiffened, an electric jolt shooting down my tail. A tear rolled over his finger, leaving a trail in the blood and grime on his hand.

"I-I’m sorry," he whispered. "I didn’t know it hurt so badly. I...I wanted to protect–"

He broke off coughing, and I clutched his hand to my cheek, lower lip quivering. What had he seen in my mind? What memories had our entanglement drug up for him?

"Regenerate," I whispered.

He gasped, sitting bolt upright as power flooded his limbs. The cuts and scrapes faded away. Adaptive Resistance ate the curses that tried to stop the healing.

I sagged, breathing heavily. Luke rose to his feet, bringing me up with him, holding me with a hand under my arm. He stretched out his hand, and his sword flew to it, landing in his palm.

"I forget how annoying support mages can be," Rash’alon said, eyes narrowed at me. "Your power rekindles hope, no matter how futile the fight may be."

"It’s the power of fate," I said. "A light when no other shines."

"That doesn’t sound like something you’d say," Luke said, gently withdrawing his hand.

I stumbled without his support, but caught my balance by leaning on my staff. Luke stood in front of me, blocking Rash’alon’s vision of me.

"It wasn’t," I admitted. "Verity said it, and she was right. It took me a long time to see it, but I think I’m beginning to understand."

"You’ve always been my light," Luke said, his back toward me. "That’s why I can’t allow this bastard to have you."

My face warmed, and an anxious twitch moved my tail. I wasn’t supposed to be a light, not for anyone who actually knew me. I’d been speaking of the power of fate! Not...me. I wasn’t like that.

"What do you say we try this again?" Luke asked, raising his sword.

Rash’alon snorted. "You would fight me two against one? How noble."

Luke laughed. It was a noise I’d never heard before, chilling my bones.

"Noble? Since when have I ever claimed something as absurd as that? Even so," he said, turning to me. His eyes softened a touch. "Please, stay back. I can tell you’re exhausted and close to collapsing. Just protect me from his curses, and I’ll do the rest."

"But I thought you could absorb them," I said.

He shrugged. "I can, but his magic’s on another level compared to anything I’ve fought before. Even if the corruption’s already...no, it’s nothing. Just trust me, okay?"

He turned away, mustering his mana. I stared at him, hand curled anxiously against my chest. Was that guilt in his eyes? What about the corruption? Was something wrong?

With a slight, feral growl, Luke lunged forward, closing the gap between them in an instant. A subtle aura of golden light surrounded him, keeping the darkness of the isolation barrier at bay.

Rash’alon brought his sword down in a brutal overhead cut, forcing Luke into a parry. The force of the blow cracked the ground beneath their feet. Luke gritted his teeth and threw the demon’s blade to the side, landing a shallow cut where its ribs would have been. Rash’alon let the blow land, setting up for another attack, yet suddenly screeched, recoiling. Unlike before, Luke’s sword–now sheathed in starlight–left a glowing, golden cut in the shadows of his flesh.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. "Interesting."

He attacked again, and this time, Rash’alon took great care to avoid or parry his blade. But the exaggerated dodge put him at an awkward angle, too close to Luke’s unarmed side. The apostle lashed out with his first, summoning a seventh-level chunk of mana. The blow detonated like a bomb against the demon’s chest, blowing him back a hundred feet. Again, a small crater of starlight lingered behind, marring his shadowy torso.

A shockwave swept out of the explosion, and I hastily erected some wards. They shuddered, but held. Terrified by the close call, I scurried back a dozen yards and started soul casting more sturdy shields. It hadn’t been possible before, but now that Adaptive Resistance was working, I could again protect myself.

I lacked the strength for a proper seventh-circle spell, so I settled on Bulwark, a sixth-circle spell designed against physical attacks, and Mirror Sphere, the fifth-circle intended to absorb and reflect magical attacks. Together, they could withstand any of the collateral effects of the battle.

The spells flowed through the Nexus, giving Luke another layer of protection. If he noticed, he didn’t give any indication, fighting with a grim frown and unwavering focus. He might be able to hurt the demon, though I still didn’t understand why, but Rash’alon was not to be underestimated. Already, before my spells took effect, he’d suffered a deep cut on his forearm and another on his cheek.

"Enough," Rash’alon hissed, breaking away after Luke scored a hit on his side. "I tire of this game. Know despair!"

The demon raised his hand, summoning eight magic circles. I stared in shock, tail rigid. He wasn’t casting a spell; it was already finished. Had he used some sort of technique like Soul Casting? But how strong was he to do that on an eighth-circle spell?

"Chains of the Abyss!"

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