Silverspear (Rise to Omniscience Book 6)

by Aaron Oster

  It took a single step forward, one of its heavy clawed feet stomping down on the metallic floor and letting out a loud noise that echoed off the walls.

  Morgan took a quick look around, searching desperately for some earth or stone. He could control adamantite, but it was a slow process. Beasts like this needed to be hit hard, and his Earthen Shift would have really come in handy in that department. Unfortunately, the room was lined heavily with adamantite. In fact, it extended over ten feet in all directions, which explained why this beast, despite its evident power, had been unable to escape.

  Guess I’ll have to improvise, he thought, already reaching for the skill and pulling some of the metal up from the ground.

  The beast hissed again, flaring with blue light as Lumia’s body suddenly ballooned outward. Within a matter of seconds, the massive form of the cobalt-mithril drake was beside him, smoke pouring out between her clenched teeth. If anything, Lumia’s presence seemed to aggravate the hydra more than anything, and it immediately swung its heads in her direction. Morgan used his Aura Sense as the beast’s blue head opened its mouth, crackling blue light shining in its throat.

  Name: Gargantuan-Poison Hydra

  Rank - 71

  Ability type - Mage

  That was it. No further information was available to him, and Morgan cursed as he swiped away the hydra’s status. The beast was too powerful for him to crack its secrets, which meant that they were going into this fight without knowing how powerful its attacks were. One thing was obvious. This was an Advanced beast, and it was very close to advancing to Pinnacle status.

  Its core was intense and constantly fluctuating. They had to kill it quickly and get its venom, which meant attacking hard and fast. They were at a disadvantage, both in rank and number. The hydra was technically just a single beast, but with five heads, it may as well have been more.

  Lumia roared, unleashing a torrent of fire, the near-blinding red light washing over him and coloring the cavern in flickering shadows. The hydra responded by blasting out a beam of its own. Crackling, blue liquid ice shot from its open blue mouth, meeting the fire in an explosion of steam. Then, as visibility was practically taken away, a blast of violet colored water came flashing through the mist.

  Morgan dodged quickly, narrowly avoiding the beam. He did, however, see what it did to the opposite wall. The purple beam struck, splashing against the metal like a liquid and sticking there. Steam began to hiss from the surface of the wall as the slime trailed down, leaving a warped and burned trail.

  He whirled back to face the beast, sensing another attack coming, and blasted out with his Compression. His skill collided with the wall of steam, the powerful blast expelling the cloud and revealing the beast in all its glory. Three of its mouths, the red, blue, and purple, were all open now, power charging there as the other two heads watched him with slitted eyes. Armor flowed over Morgan’s form as he used Stormforge. This was no time to be taking chances, and in a fight like this, death was very much a possibility.

  46

  Grace sat with her feet kicked up on the metal table, pushing the chair she was sitting on, on two of its legs. Morgan had left about an hour ago, and by now, she’d calmed down a bit and could see the reasoning behind why he hadn’t allowed her to come along with him. That didn’t mean she had to like it, which was why she’d only partially calmed down.

  Ivaldi, much to her annoyance, hadn’t even bothered to try and talk to her once. Instead, the dwarf was just going about his business, or so she assumed.

  He had started clearing out a workspace as soon as Morgan had left, collecting various items and tools, and stacking them in neat piles on his metal table. She continued glowering as the dwarf worked, but he either didn’t see her or was immune to her teenage wrath. Either way, he wasn’t paying her any mind, and Grace was starting to grow bored.

  “What are you working on?” she finally asked as Ivaldi dropped yet another long-handled tool onto his table.

  “Preparing to work on that spear,” he answered, selecting several blocks of dark metal, and carrying them over to the table.

  “Already?” Grace asked, noting the fire that the smith had already begun to stoke.

  “Yes,” Ivaldi answered, pulling a stone bucket from a corner and dropping several chunks of metal inside, before sliding them into the furnace with a set of tongs.

  “Why are you putting normal metal into the fire?”

  The dwarf blew out a long breath, sending the tips of his oddly dark mustaches fluttering in its wake.

  “Well, I can’t exactly go freestyling it when working on something like Godsteel,” he said, grabbing his notepad and writing something down.

  “So you’re…?”

  “Making a damn model!” he snapped,

  “Oh,” Grace replied, falling silent once again.

  Ivaldi went back to work, grabbing more tools, files, and other things she couldn’t fathom. Truthfully, Grace knew next to nothing about smithing, so she couldn’t really think of anything to ask about. She debated fishing her book on hairstyles from her pack but decided that this was probably something she’d never get to see again and that Morgan would want her to be paying attention.

  “What’s that for?” she asked, pointing to the block of clay Ivaldi had just produced.

  “Need to make a mold, don’t I?” he answered curtly.

  “What for?”

  “For the spear.”

  “Why are you adding the handle to the mold?”

  “Because it’s going to be one piece.”

  “You’re making the whole spear out of metal. Won’t that be too heavy?”

  Ivaldi glared at, and Grace snapped her mouth shut. Of course, he was making the entire thing of metal, and of course, it wouldn’t be too heavy for someone like Morgan. The only question was how he was going to be able to wield it.

  “Won’t it be unbalanced?” Grace asked.

  “That’s one of the reasons I’m making a model.”

  “Are you really eight-thousand years old?”

  “Eight-thousand, one-hundred, and three.”

  “You look really good for an old guy.”

  Ivaldi glared at her once again, but Grace was starting to learn that glaring seemed to be the man’s default response to just about everything.

  “Why do you live all the way out here?” she asked, rocking back on the chair legs a bit more.

  “I don’t like people.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re annoying.”

  Ivaldi gave her a pointed stare, which Grace chose to completely ignore.

  “You knew what we were when we came. How? I didn’t think anyone here would recognize humans.”

  “You’re forgetting how old I am,” Ivaldi replied. “I’ve seen my fair share.”

  “Is that why you agreed to help us?”

  “I agreed to help because I wanted to work on the Godsteel. But I’m starting to wonder if it’s even worth the hassle.”

  Grace, once again, willfully refused to take the hint.

  “So, what’s it like being a dwarf?”

  “What’s it like being an obnoxious human girl?”

  “Pretty good, actually,” Grace replied. “I get to travel around, see the world, learn about all types of hairstyles and, best of all, visit cranky dwarves who should be fossilized by now.”

  Ivaldi glared at her once again. Grace just smiled back.

  “If you’re going to be sitting there and asking questions, you may as well help me.”

  “Really?” Grace asked, allowing the front legs of the chair to crash down. “Like, with the smithing and stuff?”

  “No, like, with the hauling and stuff,” Ivaldi replied. “You look young and healthy. I’m sure you can drag some things around for me.”

  “I’m not a freaking pack-mule,” Grace complained.

  “Well, you can either help or get the hell out of my forge,” Ivaldi said matter-of-factly.

  Someho
w, Grace didn’t think Morgan would be very happy if she did that. So, grumbling to herself, she began to take instructions from the grouchy dwarf.

  “Are you married?” she asked, starting up her incessant questioning once again as soon as she’d dropped the heavy sheet of iron.

  “No.”

  “Got any kids?”

  “More than I can count.”

  “That doesn’t seem very responsible of you.”

  Ivaldi let out a snort. Grace, who had her back to him, whirled in surprise, just barely catching the hint of a smile before the dwarf hid it behind his grumpy mask. She took it as a good sign. It meant that she could get him to open up. If Morgan came back and she had collected a whole bunch of information, he’d be extremely proud of her. In fact, he might even give her another reward.

  “Have you ever traveled?” she asked, moving to lug another heavy tool, this one a hammer, toward the table.

  “Yes.”

  “Have you been all over Faeland?”

  “Where else could I have traveled?”

  “What’s it like?” she asked, dropping the hammer with a loud ‘clang’ that made Ivaldi wince.

  “Exhausting,” the dwarf said, lifting the hammer and inspecting it for damage.

  “What are the people of the other races like?”

  “Annoying.”

  “That hardly seems like an actual answer.”

  Ivaldi paused, took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He did this five more times, before turning to address her.

  “Listen, girl. You’re here because your father is busy killing some monsters. So, keep your mouth shut and stop asking questions.”

  “Morgan’s not my father,” Grace said with a snort.

  “He’s not?” Ivaldi said, stroking his beard. “Hmm. Well, I guess that explains the lack of resemblance. It also explains how you’re human, and he’s clearly not.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Grace asked, finding her voice oddly defensive.

  She had no idea what Ivaldi was talking about. Sure, Morgan’s features might be a bit on the sharper side, but he was clearly human. Just about the most perfect human, at that.

  “It means exactly as it sounds,” Ivaldi replied, pulling a thick set of gloves over his hands before taking up the tongs once again and removing the now glowing bucket from the heat.

  “You must be half-blind then,” Grace retorted.

  Ivaldi poured the contents of the bucket into another, sprinkling some fine power and dropping another chunk of metal inside, before returning it to the furnace.

  “If you’re the one who thinks that your friend is human, then you’re the one who’s blind,” Ivaldi retorted, moving to kindle another oven.

  “Well, if he isn’t human, then what is he?” Grace demanded.

  “Beats me,” Ivaldi replied with a shrug. “I’ve never seen his like before.”

  “And you can tell that just by looking at him,” Grace said flatly.

  “Obviously,” Ivaldi retorted. “When you’ve been creating for as long as I have and have been around as many people, you can tell when something isn’t entirely right. While your friend may once have been human or is still partially human, there is clearly a much more dominant, non-human aspect to him.

  “It’ll probably show a lot more when he breaks through that final barrier of his and reaches the Pinnacle, though I have to say that I’ll be glad he’ll be far from here when he does. Don’t need someone with that kind of power hanging around here.”

  “Wait, what?” Grace asked, surprised by the dwarf’s words. “You know how strong Morgan is?”

  This was something she’d been trying to figure out ever since meeting him. She knew he was strong — stronger than just about anyone in all the Five Kingdoms — but the exact details were still a mystery to her. She’d asked him several times, but he’d refused to give her an exact answer.

  “Obviously,” Ivaldi muttered. “Why else do you think I agreed to deactivate the traps in the area? I’m already going to have to reset everything that he broke coming in here. I don’t need him doing that again.”

  “So,” Grace said, trying to affect a casual air. “Just how strong is he?”

  “Strong enough to kill that beastie,” Ivaldi replied curtly. “And that’s all that matters. Now, are you gonna keep your gob shut, or do you wanna…”

  Ivaldi trailed off as a loud buzzing sounded through the forge. He growled in annoyance, moving to a clear section of the wall and depressing a small, hidden lever. Grace watched in fascination as a piece of the stone wall slid away, revealing a clear, glass sheet, which, shockingly, was displaying an image of the outside of Ivaldi’s house.

  “What is that?” she asked, unconsciously drifting forward as the dwarf began to fiddle with a small panel beneath.

  “My early-warning system,” Ivaldi muttered.

  Grace then watched in amazement as the image grew smaller, seeming to move inward as the landscape surrounding the area grew larger. Only when a small group of figures came into view, did the picture freeze. Then, it grew larger once again, only this time, expanding the view of the figures approaching Ivaldi’s home.

  “Damn it all,” the dwarf muttered as the intruder’s features became more apparent.

  Grace was looking at them in fascination, having never seen their kind before. They were all just a little shorter than her. Their bodies were waifish and thin, their hair all oddly colored in ways that gave Grace all sorts of ideas, and their ears were long and pointy.

  “What are they?” Grace asked, though the more pertinent question might have been ‘who.’

  “Elves,” Ivaldi answered, continuing to adjust the panel until it gave them a clear view of where the group was, relative to his house.

  “What are they doing here?” Grace finally thought to ask, becoming fearful that they’d been discovered.

  “They’re here to start trouble,” Ivaldi muttered, moving the picture in on one of the female’s upper arms. “You see that tattoo?”

  Grace nodded. The twining serpent bent in a figure-eight and biting its own tail was a hard mark to miss, especially with Ivaldi expanding to such large proportions on his strange looking device.

  “It’s a mark that all outcasts of the Glimmerlands are given upon exile. In short, they’re criminals that caused a bad enough offense to be exiled, though not heinous enough to be killed.”

  “And what kind of crime would warrant that?” Grace wondered, feeling a small knot of worry begin to tighten in the pit of her stomach.

  “Worshiping one of the World Beasts as gods,” Ivaldi said grimly. “The tattoo you see on their arms lets you know which cult they’re part of.”

  “Which one are they part of?” Grace asked nervously.

  “Strangler,” Ivaldi replied curtly. “It’s just my luck that I deactivated all the traps. It’ll take an hour or more for them to come back on, especially the nastier ones. Now I’m going to have to actually answer the door and hear what they have to say,” lamented the dwarf.

  “Wait…” Grace said. “They’re not here to attack?”

  “Why would they do that?” Ivaldi asked, giving her an odd look. “No, they’re probably just here to demand I make them some powerful weapon to please their god or some such nonsense, and I honestly just don’t have the patience for it.”

  The group reached the door at that moment, and the lead elf, a thin man with wild purple hair, began banging with obnoxiously loud thumps. Even all the way down here, Grace could clearly hear them.

  “Stay here and don’t move,” Ivaldi commanded, already trundling to the exit of the forge and snatching up a long-handled contraption that ended in two very sharp points. “I won’t be long.”

  Grace waited all of five seconds after the dwarf had left before moving quickly to follow him. This was the most exciting thing to happen since Morgan had left, and there was no way in hell that she was going to miss this.

  47

  “Ke
ep it off me for a few seconds!” Morgan yelled, then teleported across the room and began preparing one of his most powerful skills.

  Lumia didn’t even have time to acknowledge his request as the hydra unleashed its attack and she was forced to counter. Rearing up on her hind legs, Lumia allowed her massive wings to unfold, then brought them forward in a single, mighty flap. Her Gale activated, and a blast of air impacted the three blasts coming from the hydra.

  Two of the blasts — the blue and purple ones — were thrown to the side. The ice was too solid and continued on its trajectory, slamming into Lumia’s chest and beginning to spread over her scales. She let out a roar, then unleashed a torrent of Crimsonfire, the red flames washing over the ice and melting it in an instant. The fire continued to spread, flowing back over the icy beam towards the hydra.

  Realizing what was happening, the beast cut off its attack just in time, and Lumia’s Crimsonfire halted in its tracks. The other two heads, both green and yellow, were now preparing attacks as well, but she wasn’t about to give them a chance to. She ran to one side, lashing her tail in an arc and sending a shower of silver, steel-hard scales flying at the beast. The hydra hissed as the projectiles struck, punching into the softer hide on its side and causing green blood to ooze and bubble from the open wounds.

  Morgan floated up behind the beast as Lumia dodged around, keeping all five heads occupied. The last thing he needed now was for one of the heads to turn and catch wind of what he was doing. He could already feel the reiki drain beginning as he charged up his 7th category Starbreaker. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider using such a powerful skill, especially in a confined space like this. But this beast needed to go down before it could do too much damage.

  “Morgan! You can’t!” Lumia called as soon as the dense ball of swirling gas began to take shape.