Chapter 1249: Severed Stars

Luke pressed forward, his next strike sweeping the Arbiter’s shield aside and carving a jagged gash across his shoulder. Golden blood sprayed from the wound, and the Arbiter cried out in pain. Gayron was there immediately, hurling a pillar of fire. It spun like a tornado, enveloping the angel in an inferno of rushing heat and flames. The ground cracked and melted beneath its fury, but suddenly, the flames exploded, the Arbiter bursting free in radiant glory. His sword lashed out, releasing an arc of sunlight that blasted both Luke and Gayron back.

Before the Arbiter could counterattack, Korra closed in, engaging him midair. She blurred forward, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks that forced him onto the defensive. Slipping beneath his guard, she landed a punch against his chest that knocked him backward. He slammed into the far wall, and the entire room trembled. Black cracks snaked across the ceiling, and dust and debris rained from above, pinging against my wards.

The formation reacted to the impact. A surge of light swept through the runes like dew dripping across a tangled web. It coalesced around the mage, then, like the beat of a heart, swept back outward. The entire circle grew just a little brighter. Again and again, each time one of my companions struck the shield-bearing Arbiter, the same pattern repeated.

A piercing scream rang out, and I jerked my head around, watching as the female Arbiter wrenched herself free of Grace’s spear, knocking the Storm Hero back with a spell. The weapon had entered low, just beneath her rib cage, leaving a gaping wound as it ripped free. She spasmed as lightning arced from the wound across her body. Her wings stiffened, and she dropped to the ground, landing on one knee.

There was no reprieve. Fable materialized behind her, his paw a blur. She was sent spinning across the chamber, his claws leaving deep gouges in her back.

The other Arbiter narrowly avoided Korra’s fist and swooped down to catch her. Luke and Gayron were closing in again, but he raised his shield. Light poured outward, forming a ninth-level barrier around them. Luke’s curses rebounded, hissing as though they’d been dipped in acid.

My eyes widened slightly. No one could cast a ninth-level spell that quickly. Was it his shield? All their equipment seemed eighth-level at best, a whole tier below that of the Arbiter Luke had struck down when he’d claimed his sword. Conjuring such a ward shouldn’t have been possible!

But it was right before my eyes. Despite our party’s best efforts, the Arbiters gathered themselves and began to regenerate, casting several Life Magic spells.

"Xiviyah, the circle?" Luke asked, falling back while Grace and Gayron unleashed their powers against the ward.

I shook my head. "It’s... strange. It seems to be consuming mana from the battle, but I can’t tell where it’s going. Or why."

"Could they be siphoning it from the chamber? Perhaps to power some machination involving the World Shard?"

"I don’t know. But it feels wrong. The Arbiters, too. It’s like they’re not even trying to win."

"Don’t know about that. He hits hard," Luke muttered, touching his arm where the angel’s sword had grazed him. The wound had begun to fester with Sunpurge, and R’lissea hurried over to heal it.

"I could have taken care of it," I said.

"Save your strength. Besides, she’s better with that kind of magic anyway."

I could only lower my head. There was no denying that.

A sharp crack rang out, and Luke threw himself in front of me. Waves of sun magic washed over us, causing my horns to itch and my skin to tingle. It lasted but a heartbeat, and then Luke was gone, flashing toward the center of the room. The attack had come the instant Grace’s spear pierced the ward, but the results were underwhelming. Only Gayron, Luke, Borealis, and I were particularly susceptible to sun magic, and though it was a ninth-level spell, it barely strained Adaptive Resistance.

The battle resumed, but I tried to ignore it. The circle was gathering more and more mana, and the longer I analyzed it, the more certain I became that it wasn’t simply collecting the Arbiters’ strength. Every attack, no matter where it landed, flowed through the female Arbiter, gathering within the enchantment.

Was it a summoning circle? A massive, large-scale destruction spell? I couldn’t tell. Whoever had designed it had intentionally obscured its purpose behind layers of hidden runes and mana conduits. It looked more like someone had taken a dozen spells and tied them all together. I wasn’t even convinced it would work, given how messy it was.

Was that their goal? Trap an insane amount of mana in a failed spell and have it detonate? It seemed unlikely, but I couldn’t rule it out. The church was desperate enough to resort to something like that.

A sudden crackle of mana arced across the room, linking several runes. Then another and another, until the entire circle crackled with lightning. A magic circle blossomed around the mage, and she retreated behind the knight. He cast another ninth-level spell that resolved almost instantly. A trail of mana wove between the two Arbiters, binding their souls.

"Fighting together, eh?" Korra growled and lunged at the knight.

"Wait, no!" Verity cried.

But it was too late. With unnatural swiftness, he pivoted midair and swung his shield. It slammed into Korra’s arm with a sickening crunch, shattering her defensive arts and hurling her toward the ground. She struck hard, shaking the Divine Throne’s eighth-level foundations. Her body rebounded limply, blood spurting from her lips.

"Gah, again!" Gayron cried, blinding the Arbiters with a fan of flames. He streaked to her side and met R’lissea there.

Luke’s eyes narrowed as he and the Arbiter circled each other, their swords meeting and retreating like striking vipers.

"You are skilled for a mortal," the Arbiter said begrudgingly.

Luke answered with another strike, this time sheathing his blade in curses. They clung to the Arbiter’s sword, creeping down the hilt. The angel’s face twisted in annoyance, and he flared with light, purging the taint.

"Pity you fight dishonorably. A true warrior would never resort to such petty tricks."

Luke didn’t rise to the jab, throwing back his hand. A curtain of darkness rose like a wave and rushed over them. The Arbiter snorted, preparing another defensive art, but the darkness swept past him without harm. His eyes widened with realization, but it was too late.

Grace burst from the darkness, sheathed in lightning, streaking past the knight. The mage cried out in surprise and raised her hands, but she was too slow. Grace’s spear shattered her wards and plunged into her once more. This time, Grace didn’t miss; the weapon punched through the gleaming breastplate and into her heart. It sank deep, driving past the spearhead and onto the shaft.

The mage screamed and struggled, summoning a storm of mana, but Grace punched through the light and grabbed her throat. She flipped the mage around and drove her into the ground, pushing her spear deeper, pinning her in place.

"No!" the Arbiter cried, and yet, strangely, he made no move to aid her. He seemed... resigned.

A final explosion of arcing electricity erupted as Grace unleashed her power. Lightning crawled across the walls and floor, melting the stone and leaving black scorch marks. The female Arbiter went limp, her soul losing its luster. Grace twisted the spear, and golden ichor spilled freely in spurting pulses that quickly dwindled to trickles. Slowly, the Arbiter’s body began to dissolve into light, her soul slipping from the fabric of Enusia.

"And now it’s just you," Grace said, turning toward the remaining Arbiter with a feral look in her eyes.

"Such hatred," the Arbiter said, clicking his tongue. "Hardly suiting a hero."

She glowered at him. "You’ll all bleed for what your gods did to me. They had no right to curse me!"

"You really are as fickle as a storm."

Luke moved, committing to an eighth-level art. The Arbiter blurred, narrowly avoiding his sword. The strike carved into the ground, and black tendrils rose from the fissure, grasping at his wings. One snagged him, punching through the white feathers and splattering blood across the ground. It dragged him down, and Luke’s sword scored his armor, biting into the flesh beneath.

In a move I couldn’t follow, the Arbiter vanished, reappearing free of curses across the chamber, hovering in the center of the array. Life magic flowed over his wounds, restoring him even as Luke and Grace chased after him.

"That’s strange," I whispered, flicking my tail anxiously. Why was the array still active? I’d been certain the other Arbiter had been maintaining it. So why was it even brighter than before?

The circles continued to spin, and suddenly, I realized I could read their movements. Not because I’d managed to analyze the spell, but because the formation was untangling itself, like a puzzle box clicking into place.

My blood ran cold.

"Luke! We have to get out of here!" I cried, instinctively reaching for Fable. The wolf flashed across the room, tossing me onto his back with a flick of his tail.

The Arbiter grinned, cold and cruel. "Too late, filthblood. Your fates are sealed!"

He raised his sword, and the spells slid into place. Mana erupted from the floor, forming a pillar of light that slammed into the ceiling a hundred feet overhead and splashed outward like molten gold. The light formed a dome, descending toward the ground, cutting cleanly through time and space itself.

I reacted a split second later, throwing everything I had into my twin auras and pressing them against the barrier. They trembled and gave way, slowing its descent but unable to stop it. The icy, clawed hand of dread closed around my heart.

They were never going to defeat us. They didn’t have to. They just had to make sure we never reached the Shard.