Web of Blades - Chapter 13 Part 2: Power Source

Arturo hid in the jungle while Relia and Glim fought the jade artists in the northern courtyard.

“Can you help them?” Lena shouted over the storm.

“No,” Arturo said with a quick shake of his head. He’d been prepared to fight mana spawn, not Shokenese Masters. “We show ourselves now, they’ll make us hostages.”

Static crackled in his ear, followed by his mother’s voice. “Arturo?”

Finally. Arturo pressed a hand to his transceiver. “Mom? You there?” He missed her next reply over the rain and clashing techniques. “We could use that pickup now. How far are you?”

“Five minutes,” she replied.

“Stormy’s on the east side,” Arturo said. “Land the ship on the west. Use the temple as cover.” 

Assuming there was still a temple left in five minutes.

“Did you say Storm’s Eye?”

“It’s a few miles offshore,” Arturo said. “Be ready for a quick pickup.” 

Relia and Glim exchanged more techniques with the jade artists down below. Their surroundings were more jade than stone at this point, but they faired well enough. 

“Look!” Lena pointed toward the ziggurat where a group of cultists scrambled out the main entrance. 

Arturo raised his rifle and peered through the scope. A cluster of glowing blue figures emerged from the darkness behind the cultists. Some were shaped like apes or jungle cats. Others resembled giant insects.

Mana spawn.

The braver cultists fought back with basic techniques—mostly shields and Missiles that splashed harmlessly against the creatures’ bodies. But even the Artisans lacked proper training. 

“How’d they get inside?” Lena asked. 

“Probably came in through the toilets.”

“You’re joking.”

“Wish I were, prima. Those little bastards can squeeze through anything.”

Her gaze shifted back to the fleeing cultists. “Are you going to help them?”

Arturo nodded as he cycled mana to his assault rifle, enhancing every round in the magazine. “You stay here. I’ll—“

She grabbed his arm before he could leave. “You need me.”

“What?” He glanced back over his shoulder. “You been holding out on us?” 

“That shield used Angelic mana.”

“So?”

“It needs a power source. That means Etherite.”

“Oh.” Until now, he and Lena had been forced to work with those crystals from the Shadow Garden. But what could they accomplish with a piece of real Etherite? What could they build?

“The others are retreating,” she continued. “They’ll risk leaving it behind. But I can find it if—”

“Say no more, prima.” Arturo opened the leather pouch at his hip and pulled out a metal cylinder, about as big as a sword hilt. He clicked the silver button on the top, and a disc of protection mana formed around the handle—over five feet tall and twice as wide. The shield vanished with another click.

“Take this.” Arturo passed the portable shield Construct to Lena. “Cycle mana to the sigils if it dies.” Lena accepted the device, then Arturo pulled out an Apprentice-level handgun. “Know how to use this?”

“No.” Lena pushed the weapon away. “I’d do more harm than good.”

Fair point. Only a headshot could bring down a mana spawn. Friendly fire seemed was more likely with her lack of training. 

Arturo returned the handgun to his pocket space and pulled out a Missile rod. “This uses force mana,” he hurried to explain. “Won’t kill the spawn, but it’ll knock ‘em back. Just point and shoot.”

Lena still looked uncertain, but Arturo pressed the weapon into her free hand. “For emergencies,” he said. “Better than fighting with your bare hands.”

They jogged down the muddy ridge. Chunks of jade and stone rained down like deadly hail, forcing them to duck under overhanging branches.

Once they reached the bottom, they snuck across the western courtyard and climbed a long staircase toward the ziggurat. He stopped when he reached the twenty-foot stone wall that surrounded the temple proper. Storm’s Eye had broken the shield, but a gate of steel and impedium blocked their path. 

No sense in knocking at this point.

Arturo slung his rifle across his back, then extended his left arm to Lena. “Hang on to me.”

She stepped closer and wrapped both arms around his shoulders. Her body trembled with cold or fear. He couldn’t tell which.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” she echoed.

Arturo cycled mana to his jetpack. The gravity sigils reduced their weight, and a burst of fire launched them fifty feet into the air. Wind and rain whipped his face, and Lena’s arms tightened reflexively.

They soared straight over the inner courtyard and landed at the temple’s entrance. Mana spawn swirled around him like clouds of vibrant blue paint against the gray haze.

A teenage girl tripped on the stone floor as she fled. A spawn shaped like a praying mantis loomed over her, with eyes like glowing white coals and razor-sharp arms. Three more spawn cornered a group of cultists against the outer wall.

Arturo released Lena, grabbed his assault rifle in one smooth motion, and unleashed a hail of bullets. His rounds altered their course as they flew, guided by his aspect. 

One struck the mantis on the back of its head. The creature screamed like grinding metal before dissolving into blue mist. The girl scrambled away on her hands and knees, leaving bloody handprints on the stone.

More bullets struck the spawn near the outer wall. Blue gore sprayed the trapped cultists and the surrounding stone. Two spawn went down. The trapped cultists surged away from the wall as the third one rounded on Arturo.

“Head down the stairs!” Arturo shot the last spawn in the head. “There’s an airship coming!”

Most needed no encouragement. One man scrambled over to a control panel and opened the massive steel gate. The noncombatants retreated through the gap, while others kept fighting near the temple’s entrance.

A massive blue scorpion burst from the ground directly in front of Arturo, showering him with dirt and broken stone. Its stinger lashed out before he could bring his rifle up.

Arturo threw himself sideways as the tail flew past his face. He rolled, came up on one knee, and put three shots in the creature’s head. It exploded with blue liquid.

“Behind you!” Lena screamed.

He spun around—too slow. An ape’s fist crashed into his skull like a sledgehammer. Stars filled his vision as the world tilted sideways. 

Arthuro’s body moved on autopilot despite his confusion. He brought his rifle up, jammed the barrel under the creature's jaw, and squeezed the trigger. Blue liquid splattered his face, but he’d missed the creature’s brain.

The ape slapped the rifle aside and pinned Arturo to the ground. One fist pressed against his chest, and he couldn’t breathe. 

Another fist flew toward his face.

Arturo Cloaked his arms and caught the fist with both hands. He might be the weakest on his team, but he was still an Artisan.

Just then, a burst of force mana sent the creature into the nearest stone pillar. Arturo drew in a sharp breath as the weight lifted from his chest. He braced himself for pain, but nothing came. No broken ribs.

He scrambled for his rifle and took another shot before his attacker could recover. This time, the bullet took the spawn between its eyes, and its head exploded like a blue melon.

Arturo spat blood as Lena pulled him to his feet. He tried to thank her for the save, but he couldn’t hear a thing over his ringing ears. 

Several heartbeats passed as he stood frozen in place, blinking rain and liquid mana from his eyes, struggling to process the chaos. Spawn swarmed the courtyard. Cultists ran in every direction while the spawn ripped their friends to pieces.

Still, others watched it happen in stunned silence—they might as well line up outside a slaughterhouse. 

That snapped Arturo back to reality. “Move!” He gestured them toward the open gate. “Down the stairs!” He had to repeat himself several more times before they listened.

Arturo finished off the stronger spawn with his rifle. With them gone, the cultists had no trouble finishing the weaker ones. When he glanced back at the temple’s entrance, he spotted an Artisan in his late twenties guarding the doorway with a pure Construct. The man's dark hair was plastered to his skull with rainwater. His shield sparked and rippled as the spawn threatened to break through.

“Open the shield,” Arturo said to the man. His voice still sounded distant, but better than before.

The Artisan glanced at Arturo, taking in the sight of him, from his high-tech armor and weapons to his Artisan soul. Arturo must have passed his inspection, because the man opened a gap in his shield and gestured him inside. 

Arturo went first, firing on the spawn beyond.. A pack of eight-eyed wolves burst like water balloons. A flying serpent unraveled. An octopus exploded into blue chunks before fading to mist. 

Two more apes tried to flank him, striking high and low in unison. Arturo dropped to one knee, sweeping his rifle in a tight arc. No sooner had the bullets emerged than they curved through the air and found their targets.

“Clear!” he shouted back to Lena. She scrambled through the shield behind him, and they set off down the corridor. Red emergency lights flickered overhead, looking out of place against the carved stone walls. 

“Which way to the power source?” he asked Lena. 

Lena closed her eyes for several heartbeats, then lifted her chin toward the ceiling. “Top floor.”

“Great.” Right in the line of fire if Stormy got sick of waiting. 

They spent the next two minutes fighting their way through the halls, killing more spawn and freeing trapped cultists along the way. Eventually, they found a central staircase and began their climb. Lena's breaths came in ragged gasps behind him, but she didn't slow down.

The top floor was wide open, filled with desks and computers. Wires coiled around the ancient stone columns, and fluorescent lights hung from the high ceilings. Arturo glanced around in confusion—even his Silver Sight revealed nothing. But Lena stepped toward a titan steel cylinder in one corner of the room.

“It’s in here,” she said.

Arturo stepped forward. The cylinder was locked up tight, but he retrieved Irina’s Master Key from his pouch and cycled some mana into the artifact. The silver wrapped like quicksilver as it took on the correct shape, then he inserted it into the lock.

The curved door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a shard of Etherite in the center of the structure. The crystal was half the size of Arturo's hand, surrounded by leythium wires. It held no mana; Storm's Eye had drained everything when it broke the shield.

Arturo pulled a flashlight from his pouch and illuminated the structure’s inner walls. A complex sigil grid reflected the light. He recognized the patterns, but not the sigils themselves.

“Hang on.” Arturo pulled out a camera from his bag.

“What are you doing?” Lena snapped. 

“Exactly what it looks like.” Arturo rotated the camera through the opening and began snapping photos. “This could save us years of work later on.”

“Don’t you have a Second Brain?”

“Won’t work, prima. This is all gibberish to me.” Technically, he could have still used his Second Brain, but it would take some advanced techniques. At that point, a simple camera was faster.

Lena’s hand pressed against his shoulder as she knelt for a closer look. “You think Lady Trelian made this herself?”

Arturo shrugged as he returned the camera to his pouch. “You’re the Aeon expert.” He hesitated before grabbing the Etherite. “Is this gonna blow up if I take it?”

“You’re the sigil expert,” she countered.

“Right.” Arturo scanned the structure one last time, but nothing here resembled a trap.

Finally, he drew a sharp breath and retrieved the crystal.