Charge of the Black Knight and Echoes of the Wind
As the knight clad head to toe in armor charged forward, the Mud Baron scrambled for a countermeasure.
"Arbalest! Get the arbalest!"
A knight in full plate was like a monster. It seemed downright foolish to engage one up close. Swords wouldn't pierce, spears wouldn't penetrate. You'd have to bludgeon it with an axe or hammer just to maybe bring it down—and why the hell would you close in for melee against such a beast?
"Th-there's no arbalest, sir!"
"What?!"
The Mud Baron had planned to take down Belenca with that otherworldly certified cheat weapon, the arbalest. Knight or no, everyone was one shot away in front of it... or so it should have been.
"Oh shit!"
The Mud Baron realized too late. He'd brought a couple of arbalests, but handed them all over to the outer guards for watch duty!
His men's faces drained of color. The knight in pitch-black armor barreled toward them, radiating murderous intent. The problem: who was going to stop her? You do it—who else? With no arbalest to halt the insane killing machine, morale among the tomb raiders plummeted to rock bottom.
"I've got one arbalest! Fetch it!"
"Yes, sir!"
While the meat shields (also known as tomb raiders) bought time, one subordinate bolted off to retrieve the arbalest. In the meantime, the Mud Baron moved to capture the Talian Baron and the mage. The enemies were after the mage, Ingrian. But if they snagged the noble first, the tables would turn. Luckily, they had the numbers advantage. The other side had just a scrawny attendant and two mercenaries. If the Mud Baron and his men swarmed them, they could bag the baron or the mage easy.
"Swarm 'em!"
the Mud Baron bellowed.
But the moment he moved, the mage Ian reacted instantly.
"Darkness!"
At Ian's shout, an overwhelming darkness gathered—enough to shame the torches the humans carried. This was the underworld. The domain of pure shadow. The darkness answering Ian's call swallowed Ian and Lucy's group in the blink of an eye.
"Damn it...!"
The Mud Baron panicked as the mage vanished before his eyes. He knew a thing or two about mages, but this was his first time seeing one wield darkness like Ian.
"That damn trickery!"
Time-honored curses against foes were practically high praise. In the underdeveloped profanity of the medieval era, "trickery" was basically shorthand for "You've mastered some mystical arts!" The Mud Baron was irked by Ian's magic—which meant Ian was damn good at it.
What now?
The Mud Baron hesitated. Charging into that darkness offered a slim shot at capturing the Talian Baron and the mage... but stepping willingly into the enemy's shadowy veil felt like utter stupidity no matter how he sliced it. What did the foe want? Was the dark a trap? A bluff? He couldn't decide.
Deception and concealment—the essence of shadow's power.
But right then—
The mage Ingrian bellowed like a lion, chanting in a firm voice.
"De - Karua - Luma!"
⟨ Radiant Burst ⟩
Normally, he'd have brushed it off with "Old timer, got some pipes on ya." But the miracle that followed left even the Mud Baron speechless.
Beyond Ingrian's raised fingertips... a brilliant radiance blazed like the sun itself!
The Mud Baron stared, entranced.
...Ah!
Ingrian's intense glow scattered the shadow mage Ian's darkness, leaving it nowhere to stand. Ian's veil of shadow lifted. And there, revealed beyond it, were the shocked faces of Lucy and Ian.
# Ingrian had picked light magic purely by coincidence. In the heat of battle, he wasn't some seasoned warrior coolly picking the optimal move. He was just an old man who loved magic.
His specialty happened to be photonics—the magic of exploring the mysteries of light and brilliance. Just as Eredis mastered pyrokinesis and Ian umbrakinesis, Ingrian excelled at—and loved—photonics.
He was so used to it that even in this underground realm lit only by feeble torchlight, he instinctively chose it. As the heavily armored knight charged, sensing mortal danger, Ingrian unconsciously beseeched the mystery of light...
Ingrian wasn't some half-baked mage; he'd been a magic academy professor. He had the skill to go toe-to-toe with Ian in a prolonged duel without losing. When such an expert unleashed his signature spell, he conjured a brilliance that beggared belief for the underworld.
Ingrian's goal was simple: eye-searing flash! Blind Belenca with dazzling light to buy escape time!
But his habitual, coincidental photonics was a perfect counter to Ian's umbrakinesis specialty. Ingrian hadn't even noticed what Ian cast beside him... but his survival spell obliterated the encroaching darkness.
Damn it all!
As the shadows shrieked and scattered, Ian knew things had gone south. The culprit: that sparkly old man's light! With his darkness gone, he spotted the Mud Baron and his men creeping closer. The silver lining? They were half-blinded too, moving slow.
But slow or not, they were too close. Seconds from contact.
"Belenca!"
Ian called, but no use. Belenca staggered, vision lost. She'd recover in seconds—but that matched the enemy's approach time.
Shit... what to do?
Ian assessed fast. Lucy and the attendants were useless in melee. Same for him. Shaking off the Mud Baron solo? Impossible. Recalling Belenca? Too late. Quake the earth to bind their feet? No—the earth mystery had long ignored him.
That left...
Take down Ingrian!
Cancel the old man's spell, resummon the darkness. That was Ian's answer.
"Belenca—!"
Belenca reacted. She still had wits enough.
"Close your eyes—!"
Stumbling from Ingrian's glare, Belenca focused on Ian's voice.
Close my eyes? They were as good as shut already. But she did it. She trusted Ian.
Sure, he was a weirdo... but his magic was the real deal.
"Focus—on—the—voice—of—the—wind!"
What the hell, Ian? I'm no mage!
A knight listening for the wind's voice? Belenca inwardly protested, but Ian pressed on relentlessly.
"You can do it! Belenca!"
She got that he was prepping some spell. But his sudden demand threw her.
Hearing the wind's voice? She'd never even considered it, let alone tried.
Still, she trusted Ian. That quirky mage had to have a plan!
Belenca concentrated as hard as she could, trying to meet his request.
...
As she did, Ian thundered the incantation.
"Ka - Laura - Ossus!"
⟨ Aerokinesis - Echolocation ⟩
A single gust swirled around Belenca, spreading in a circle. Within it echoed the wind's playful, pure laughter.
...Ah.
Focusing solely on the wind, Belenca felt Ian's summoned breeze with her whole body.
A technique to perceive surroundings via sound echoes. The sharper your senses, the more precise the detection.
Do you feel it?
Feel it, human?
Feel it, human? The way we dance...?
It was the echo of magic-born wind. The breeze spreading from Belenca shattered against walls and objects, losing force. That feedback flowed straight to her.
Belenca was stunned.
I can see...!
The sequential shattering of the wind's voice. Astonishingly, it painted a visual map in her mind of her surroundings.
A medieval like her had no name for it. It wasn't an experience ordinary folk could have.
But Ian, once a modern man, knew: echolocation.
Using sound waves' echoes to map self and surroundings. Ian's modern sonar-inspired twist on medieval magic.
Pinpointing Ingrian's position, Belenca swung her sheathed sword.
"What?!"
Ingrian freaked as Belenca slashed blindly. How?! Elvesong! It had to be elvesong!
"What sorcery is this...!"
He dodged fast, but Belenca struck with eerie precision.
"Gah!"
Ingrian tumbled, hit by the scabbard. The light magic vanished.
With Ingrian's glow gone, Ian redeployed the shadow veil. Then, swinging his staff at the onrushing foe with all his might.
His final spell: magic missile (physical)!
Crack!
The tomb raider crumpled, head bashed by the staff. With the shadow curtain down, the Mud Baron had no way to counter Ian.
"Damn it! Retreat! Fall back!"
The Mud Baron fled with his men. Masters of bugging out.
Belenca wanted pursuit, but her sight hadn't recovered.
"Ow... gonna die...!"
Capturing Ingrian would have to suffice. The rats were trapped anyway. No rush.
"Old timer. Give it up. Surrender nice, and we'll treat you as a POW."
Ian approached the fallen Ingrian. Belenca had walloped him good—probably some fractures. Old bones didn't heal easy. Hope he'd be okay.
"I-Ian!"
"Yeah?"
"Yes! That last spell of yours—what was it?!"
"..."
What? First thing as a captive? Ian was dumbfounded, but Ingrian's eyes sparkled.
Ian had seen eyes like that before. Dehitri, the clear-eyed zealot from the Saint Santiago Order.
Eyes rivaling Dehitri's? This guy was probably a maniac too, nine times out of ten.
"Wind magic."
"Wind? How does wind cure a blinded eye?!"
"Got the hint from the cave echoes."
"...Echoes? What do echoes have to do with wind magic...? Weren't they just fairy pranks?"
Ingrian pondered, then yelped "Ah!"
"I get it! You asked the wind fairies! To guide your path!"
"..."
"You! Pulling off something that tough! Incredible skill! Sorry for mistaking you for a geokineticist. You're a true aerokineticist!"
Lucy, listening nearby, tilted her head.
"Isn't Ian an umbrakineticist...? Doesn't he use shadows?"
"Umbrakinesis?!"
Ingrian recoiled. That bizarre, rare magic?
"You wield umbrakinesis too?!"
"...Old timer. You barely saw the fight, huh?"
Narrow-sighted geezer.
Ian grumbled under his breath.