The Third Step: Chapter Forty-One

I Foxstepped out of the way as a spike of bone slammed into the space where my head had been a mere moment before. I spun and leapt to the side, even as I started to cycle Mantle Dragonfyre, and threw a ball of Foxfire at the ectoplasmic shell formed in front of me. It burnt through the forged mana, letting me pass through the poor ghost, and I spun as a thin tendril of flesh lashed out at me, kicking back and leaning out of the way of the death slaughter spirit. 

I teleported back again, leaning behind one of the shelving units and drawing my mana into myself as I cast Hiding Spider and bought myself a moment to think and focus. The spell made cycling Mantle Dragonfyre harder, since it dampened my spirit, but I needed it to avoid the slaughter spirit’s mana senses. 

Intellectually, I had known that Kijani formed slaughter spirits. It was why they put so much of their national budget – budgets? – into their versions of the Spiritwatch. Despite that, for some reason, I hadn’t expected to run into one of them when delving down here. 

It seemed to be early fourth gate, which made it a threat one-on-one, but not something so bad that I needed to immediately run. That was good. Running from an angry ghost was one thing, but running from a slaughter spirit felt entirely different. The containment spells that Deepfall had were good, but there was no sense in risking them against a foe that saw nothing but death. 

I turned and peeked at the spirit through a gap in the shelves. Its body was made of clumps of muscle, with long, thin strings of skin poking out from inside the bloody, veiny mess. Shards of bone poked from the mass of writhing flesh, and even as I watched, the entire body pulsed and a spear of bone was shot out. The bone was still alive, but the spirit cast a spell to rapidly speed the conversion of life into death. It also caused the spear to soak in the death energy around it, converting into death mana. Within seconds, it had another bone spear and was lifting it into the air. 

The fourth gate spirit wasn’t just an osteomancer, however. It had several spirits chained to it, connected by fleshy tendrils that channeled absurd amounts of death mana into them, presumably forcibly controlling their actions. Given the looks of pain on the spirit’s faces, I was willing to bet the spirit wasn’t exactly gentle in its forced command either. 

The slaughter spirit growled and the ghosts spasmed, flickering for a moment before they began to rush through the room, looking for me. One turned the corner where the shelving lay, and I teleported, releasing my veil and thrusting my hand out. Red and brown light thundered from my hand and tore through the flesh. The air filled with an awful stench that permeated even through my bottled breath potion, and I cast the spell to cut off my sense of smell, even as I gagged. 

I landed on the ground in a crouch as my dragon’s breath cut off, and swept the area with my mana senses. The spells binding the ghosts were still intact, which meant that the slaughter spirit was still alive. 

I started cycling another Mantle Dragonfyre even as the masses of burnt and bloody flesh started to pull themselves together. The bone spear launched at my head and I Foxstepped out of the way, flicking out balls of Foxfyre even as the spirit spun. Eyes emerged from the flesh, bright red veins pulsing within the whites of the eyes, and I shuddered even as I flung my hand out and conjured a slash of blademoss, accompanied by spikes of Pinpoint Boneshard. The spirit started to wiggle and writhe, and it spat out four more bone spears, before quickly seasoning them. I flicked my hand out and began to weave Capture Moments, even as I cast more balls of Foxfire, Pinpoint Bonehsard, Briarthreads, slash with blademoss, upend the frozen pitcher plants, and shot a spike of ice from the frostbristle succulent.

Every one of the attacks was quickly healed by the dominion and body of the slaughter spirit, harming it, but not leaving it dead. None of them even came close to the raw destructive power that my initial dragon’s breath attack had offered, but I needed wide area destruction more than focused power, so I could destroy as much of the slaughter spirit as possible. I didn’t really have a solution for that right now – Kludde’s Weight was the closest, but it was more of a suppressant or containment spell than a true attack. Ah, well. It couldn’t hurt. 

I flared Kludde’s Weight even as I caught a spear with a tendril of the Ivy Cloak and leaned out of the way. All throughout the chamber, there were creaking and cracking sounds as century-old bones were reduced to powder, and the slaughter spirit let out a squeal of pain and hate. The ghosts lunged at me, dominions extending, but Arthur’s Dominion of Protection extended. Four on one, he could only buy me moments, but that was all I needed. 

I thrust my hand forward and cast my Mantle Dragonfyre, as well as Magical Echo and Transport Anchor. The room was suddenly filled with copies of every single one of the spells and plants that I’d been throwing around. Individually, the slaughter spirit had been able to shrug off the attacks. All together, however, they created a wave of destruction that roared through the room.

An instant later, silence reigned over the room once again, and I let out a breath as my mana senses revealed that the mana making up the body of the slaughter spirit had begun to dissipate. 

The four ghosts gathered in the center of the room and bowed their heads. I hadn’t been casting Cwn Anwnn’s Hunt, as the ghosts were clearly under the thrall of the slaughter spirit, and I didn’t want to kill them again. The spirits seemed to look at one another and have a conversation I couldn't understand, before one of them, an older man, spoke. 

“Thank you. Nearly two years we have been under the command of that… thing.” 

He bowed deeply, using a style I wasn’t familiar with. It made me wonder if some of my bows on the earlier floors had come across as rude, or if I was just making it clear that I was a foreigner. Hopefully it was just the latter. Spiritual energy began to swirl around him, as well as around the other three ghosts and I snapped back to the present. 

“There is not much we can do for you. As death draws closer for each of us, we can only guide so slightly. There is a need in you, but it is not one we can fill. Still, we saw you fight. There is something we may be able to do. It is not much, but…” 

One of the spears created by the warped dominion, spellcraft, and mana-body of the slaughter spirit rose into the air, and the attention from all four of the ghosts focused onto it. There was an instant where the entire room seemed to freeze, and then the old man vanished. Another ghost vanished, and a third. The fourth, a nearly shapeless being due to it being so far gone, held the spear out to me, and I took it. Then the fourth was gone, leaving me holding a spear. 

I bowed my head to them and placed a few mana sources on the alter. I didn’t know if their souls, in whatever came after death, would even know that I was doing it as a way to respect the ghosts that had passed on to help me, but I hoped that they would. Even if not, there was something ritualistic and polite about it. 

Only after I had placed the offering down did I examine the spear. It was… strange. It was made out of bone, yes, but the bone was entirely made of mana, rather than energy. Power ran up and down the spear’s shaft, but half of it felt formless, like it was waiting to interact with something. 

The rest, however, seemed to have layered into enchantments. They were fairly standard enchantments for a spear, improving the ability of the tip to pierce, enhancing the physical energy produced by a thrust, and giving it the ability to self-repair with more substance provided. Given that it was a spear of death mana, I assumed I could fuel it with death mana. 

Though they were simple, they felt… potent. I wasn’t familiar enough with enchanting to tell exactly what was up with them, but as the result of a ghostgift, they were going to be hefty. I was grateful, but I also felt slightly awkward. I didn’t use a spear, I used a staff. Then again, the ghost leader had said this was to help me, and that they had seen me fight. If they were giving me a bone spear – even a weird spiritual bone like this – maybe it was intended to work with Pinpoint Boneshard? 

I lifted my hand and attempted to channel Pinpoint Boneshard through the spell. It shouldn’t work – Pinpoint Bonespear was a third gate spell, since manipulating a physical spear of bone in straight line trajectories without causing them to spin wildly was a lot more complex, and required a lot more power. If I’d chosen to be an osteomancer, there was a good chance I’d have learned it, but I’d decided to walk a different path.  

Instead of failing, as it should have, the formless power of the spear snapped into place, reaching into the Pinpoint Boneshard spell and… bonding to it. The spear exploded across the room until it reached the point I’d selected, where it held in place, hanging there. I raised my hand and pulled the spear back to my hand, then drew it into my spirit. The spear was too large to fit in the tree hollow that held the shards, so it instead landed next to the tree, leaning against it.

I bowed my head to the spot where the ghosts had disappeared and thanked them one more time. I walked around the room and tried to place back any of the funerary shrouds that had been knocked off by the fight, then descended. 

Deeper and deeper down I went, passing by more and more floors. Some held dangerous opponents that I was forced to flee from, while others held old ghosts that were simply interested in watching as I moved. Others still held mana sources, natural treasures, or especially strong willed ghosts that held onto some of who they had been. On and on, floor after floor. I slept once again when I passed the one hundred and seventieth floor, then kept pressing deeper.

Some of the floors were interesting. On one of them, the ghosts had decided to throw a party, and I was caught up in a sweep of ethereal music and dancing for nearly an hour before I was able to leave. One floor had an especially cognizant ghost who wanted to know everything about the world going on, but made it clear from the moment I appeared that he never intended to leave, which I felt was an odd mix. Another had a natural treasure I couldn’t identify, but that felt like highly spiritual, powerful death magic. I thought it could be used to empower a ghost or shade’s dominion, and by a substantial amount at that. I resolved that if I couldn’t find anything else, I’d snag it on my way back up. 

Deeper and deeper I pressed, until I arrived on the two hundred and eleventh floor, where a wave of shadow raced right at my face.