Глава 14

The airship keeps increasing its power output. The skeleton's nerve bundles are getting torn apart.

Originium's already weakened the strands pretty badly.

Even if the Doctor's team shuts the airship down, if it separates from the skeleton, they won't have a way to get back here!

We'll do what we can.

Worry not. I promised them half an hour. I will not break my vow.

The Banshee treads atop the spine, one stroke for every step, the curses he composes gathering behind him before finally sinking into the nerves.

As he sweeps his writing hand across the crimson sky, the incantations surge through the nerves, causing them to tense and lift.

The Banshee uses his bone pen as a fulcrum, commanding the countless nerve bundles via his magics.

As they tighten and constrict, the steel wrapped in their grasp screeches unceasingly.

The airship howls, causing huge fragments to rain down from the skeleton's bones.

Theresis's Witchling army is still bombarding us.

You're going to be their easiest target if you keep standing out there like that!

No matter. It is better that way.

The shroud of fog will be enough to extinguish the raging flames.

If I do not wish it, not even the scorching sun could penetrate the white mists of the valley.

It will protect me.

The thick fog at Logos's side condenses and gathers, gradually engulfing his silhouette so as to make it indistinct and untargetable.

The bombardment penetrates into his cloak of clouds, but there is not a single sound. The tracks it leaves behind are quickly filled by the fog.

We can't fight on for too much longer, W...

I've got you, W!

*cough*... *cough*...

Are you serious?! Don't tell me this old bastard's house can still move!

Didn't manage to find anything over there.

Do not treat the airship as an unliving piece of metal. The mere existence of the revenant is enough to make it a 'weapon' out of the ordinary.

Within its walls, it will use all its might to disrupt our cognition.

The interior of the cabin is filled with a surging black tide as far as the eye could see, while the revenant's cage fades out of your view.

Net-shaped shadows persistently, unceasingly attempt to creep up your bodies.

(Hatefully shaking off shadows)

Mon3tr will protect us, Doctor.

Do not injure the Doctor, Mon3tr.

You give Mon3tr a pat, who is still lifting you atop its shoulders.

Don't worry, Kal'tsit, I think we're firm friends by now.

(Lively cry)

Emotions... are flooding the entire room.

The shadows are everywhere. We can't pinpoint where the core is while we're under the influence of the revenant's Arts.

He's clearly changing his strategy.

He knows full well that with Amiya present, he cannot threaten us in the short term.

I fear that it is not the revenant that's changing strategy. Rather...;He is buying time for someone else.

Theresa.

We cannot hesitate any longer. This is our only chance.

She raises her hands, the patterns on her ten rings beginning to flow.

Black chains manifest from them, twisting, entwining.

The chains fly forth, plunging deep into the surging tide.

The black chains bind the inky sea of shadow, gathering it into an ebony sphere.

The airship howls as waves of shadow crash unceasingly against the Arts barrier.

Every time the chains are struck, Amiya is forced to resonate with the wild, chaotic frenzy of emotion.

Amiya!

I... I can endure it.

But I don't know how long I can hold it—

Amiya, clear a path forward.

Mon3tr, prepare to enter—

I'll do it.

I don't know what you could even do without your little pet.

Hey, hag, Her Highness can see us, right?

Her will is ever-present.

Open the door, little bunny.

I don't think Her Highness remembers me, so I need to shift the schedule up a bit.

Okay. After you enter, I'll help you!

The chains turn, shadows spewing out from the gaps between them.

Make way, you old coot! Can't you see I'm trying to get in?

Gragh. Such a warm welcome. You must have really liked that gift I gave you earlier.

Well no need to worry, because there's plenty more!

She yanks apart an opening between the chains, her mouth clenching onto a grenade, and after giving some shadows a few good kicks, she steps inside.

We need to finish this before Theresa really gets involved.

You are right, Doctor.

The gaps between the chains are already beginning to close.

But while no-one was looking, an imperceptible trickle of shadow manages to flow out through the tiniest of cracks...

Slowly creeping its way towards Amiya.

Once we've successfully stopped the airship—

The one we next need to face is her—

King of Sarkaz...

The revenant's voice suddenly reverberates in Amiya's mind.

Before she could even react, the shadow at her feet explodes like a raging flame.

Amiya's ears ring with urgent cries calling for her.

Doctor... Dr. Kal'tsit...

King of Sarkaz!

The revenant's bellow shakes the walls of the cabin.

A lance breaks free from within the shadows, forming itself into a monstrous symbol before piercing through Amiya.

She is pinned midair in front of the black sphere.

Chimera! I will use your death to inscribe this brand!

The mark of the ones without roots.

The chains chafe against one another, shear apart and slacken.

Blood drips upon the ground.

What was that?

She could still feel Amiya's presence accompanying her, somewhere, somehow.

Little bunny... Damn it. I better find that old coot fast.

'Where emotion flows clearest'... Where the hell is that?

It's too dark in here. Let me light this place up for you, you old bast—

Where are my *Sarkaz expletive* bombs?! No way I'd forget—

The flowing shadows engulf her.

She suddenly feels no support under her feet, like she is drowning in the abyss.

Argh—

It's cold. Ice cold. Why is there not a single sign of life here?

This... isn't the airship, is it?

She sees a great suit of armor, stained with rust, hacking away at a boulder in the wilderness.

A metal man... without a head?

(Ancient Sarkaz language) I have followed you along this campaign of yours, but now that even death has left us, what meaning does slaughter have still...

(Ancient Sarkaz language) If not for slaughter, where would I even go, you say?

I don't understand a damn word they're saying—

Wait... is that rock... talking?