The exit from the Echo Alcoves felt like stepping out of a freezer and into a wind tunnel. The Wailing Maw was done playing nice with the travelers. The spatial rifts overhead were no longer distant streaks in the sky.
They were jagged and pulsing tears in the atmosphere that hummed with enough raw energy to turn a man into a pile of dust. David Silver sat on the rear wagon and pulled his hood low.
Old Man Barnaby was back to his drunk driver persona. He looked like he had not washed in a month. The flask in his hand was silent because he did not need to drink right now.
The air itself was intoxicatingly thick with mana. It was so thick it tasted like copper on the tongue. David looked at the old man and remembered the Grand Archive. He remembered the weight of the Architect’s Apprentice title that the system had given him. It felt like a lead weight in his soul.
"They are close, are they not?" David rasped. His voice was barely a whisper.
Barnaby did not look at him. He just adjusted the reins of the Groks. "Six of them. Tier 6. The Pale Hand. They do not have souls, David. They traded them for the ability to move through shadows. They are coming for the check, and you are the only currency they accept. It is a very bad way to make a living."
David felt a cold prickle at the base of his skull. Tier 6 assassins. This was not a school duel at the Academy. This was not a monster hunt for Glass-Wings. This was a professional hit ordered by Count Greyjoy.
The Count clearly did not appreciate his son being turned into a human vibrator during the Arcane Sifting. David sighed. Nobles were very sensitive about their children being humiliated.
Rose was standing on the lead wagon and scanning the cliffs. David watched as her heavy chest moved along with her breathing. She looked like she was about to explode out of her breastplate, which made the younger mercenaries swallow hard.
[Warning! High-Tier Assassination Unit Detected.]
[Target: The Pale Hand - Tier 6 Shadow Stalkers.]
[Distance: 1.2 Miles. ETA: 8 Minutes.]
"System," David thought. His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the wooden bench. "I cannot fight six Tier 6s head-on. Not without turning this entire gorge into a crater and alerting the Great Eye. Give me a tactical advantage that does not involve nuclear fusion. I want to be stealthy."
[Analyzing Environment...]
[Required Technique: Spatial Perception.]
[Description: The ability to sense the three-dimensional layout of your surroundings through mana-echoes.]
"I have that already," David snapped in his mind. "It is a Tier 1 tracker skill. My neighbor’s dog could probably do that."
[Multiplier Status: 100,000x.]
[Skill Evolution: Spatial Perception ➔ Chrono-Spatial Foresight.]
[Effect: By overclocking your perception of mana-vibrations, you can calculate the most probable future-state of your immediate environment. You will not just see where they are. You will see where they will be.]
David’s breath hitched in his throat. "How far into the future?"
[With a 100,000x multiplier? Five minutes. Exactly.]
"Do it," David commanded.
Inside his mind, the Aeon Catalyst roared with power. It was not a physical heat this time. It was a mental expansion. It felt as if his brain was being unfolded like a map, layer by layer, until his consciousness was no longer confined to his skull.
The Larynx gorge did not just look like stone and shadow anymore. It became a wireframe of blue mana lines in his vision. He could see every crack in the stone and every pebble on the road.
Then, the Ghost Echoes appeared.
Translucent and grey figures began to flicker in David’s vision. They were faint at first, but as the multiplier stabilized, they became as clear as the wagons. David saw a figure in a black bodysuit materialize on a ledge fifty feet above the road. He saw the figure draw a jagged shadow-dagger and leap toward the caravan. He saw the blade pierce the canvas of the third wagon.
That has not happened yet, David realized. That is five minutes from now. It was like watching a movie of his own death before it started.
He watched the Ghost Echoes play out the entire ambush. Two assassins would strike from the cliff walls. Two would rise from the shadows beneath the Groks.
The leader, a man named Vane, would appear directly on the driver’s bench to take David’s head. It was a perfect and synchronized execution. It was very impressive for people without souls.
"Relatable humor, David," he whispered. A grim and dark smile touched his lips. "You have got a five-minute head start on your own murder. Do not waste it. You really need to stop getting into these situations."
David stood up. "Gerrard ! Pull the Groks over! The Larynx is unstable! We need to check the axle on the lead wagon before it snaps!"
Gerrard looked back. His face was etched with exhaustion. "Now? We are in the middle of a choke point! This is a terrible place to stop!"
"Do it!" David’s voice carried the Sovereign weight of his power. "Now!"
Gerrard flinched as if he had been slapped. He signaled the halt. The Groks groaned as they stopped their massive bodies. The mercenaries looked around nervously.
They sensed the tension but they could see nothing but rocks and purple light. Rose adjusted her heavy ones on the railing and looked at David with suspicion.
David hopped off the wagon. He did not run. He walked with a calm and predatory grace toward the spots where the Ghost Echoes had appeared. He had four minutes left before the blood started flowing.
"System," David thought. His hands were glowing with a shimmering and condensed purple light. "Mana Compression and Toxin Sovereign. We are going to plant some surprise gifts for our new friends."
[Implementation: Mana Mines.]
[Description: Sowing seeds of infinitely dense mana laced with Void-Rot. When triggered by a specific mana-frequency like Shadow Step, they will detonate.]
David knelt by the shadows of the lead Grok. He pressed his fingers into the dirt. He did not just place mana. He crushed it into the ground. He forced the Static energy of his core into a tiny and vibrating marble of leaden weight. Then he wrapped it in a layer of the Toxin Sovereign’s corrosive bile. It was a very lethal combination.
He did it five more times. He placed one in the mud. He placed one on the cliff wall. He even hid one in the canvas of his own wagon. He moved like a ghost. His Flash-Step allowed him to cover the distance in seconds. He was a blur of grey and shadow.
Three minutes left.
He climbed back onto the bench beside Barnaby. The old man was watching him with one eyebrow raised. Barnaby did not say a word, but David could feel the Tier 8 Arch-Mage’s amusement. He knew exactly what David was doing. He probably thought it was funny to watch a teenager plant mines like a gardener.
"Two minutes," David murmured.
Grim let out a low and rumbling growl. The Void-Stalker’s fur was standing on end. His violet eyes were fixed on the ledge above where the first assassin would appear.
"Stay down, Grim," David thought through the soul-link. "Let the ground do the work. We do not want to get our fur dirty."
The silence of the Larynx was absolute. It was so quiet you could hear the Groks breathing. Then, exactly as the Chrono-Spatial Foresight had predicted, the mana-static in the air shifted. The Ghost Echoes in David’s vision perfectly aligned with the reality that was about to unfold. It was like a puzzle pieces clicking together.
"Now," David whispered.
The Pale Hand assassins struck.
Vane, the leader, materialized in a burst of black mist directly behind Barnaby. His shadow-blade was already mid-swing. It was aimed at David’s throat. His eyes were cold and professional. They were entirely devoid of mercy. He looked like a machine designed for killing.
But Vane’s blade did not hit flesh. David was not there anymore.
At the exact moment Vane had triggered his Shadow Step to appear on the wagon, the mana-mine David had hidden in the bench canvas reacted to the frequency of the magic. It felt the shadow-step and decided it was time to wake up.
[Detonation Initialized.]
[Passive Multiplier Activated: 100,000x!]
The explosion was not a standard fireball. It was a spatial collapse. The Mana Mine David had planted did not just explode. It un-existed the space around it. The compressed gravity well David had created snapped shut with the force of a thousand tons of pressure. The Void-Rot bile was atomized into a lethal and microscopic mist.
Vane did not even have time to scream. The Tier 6 assassin was sucked into a localized vacuum. His shadow-arm was crushed into a bloody pulp by the gravity. The Void-Rot mist entered his lungs and melted his internal organs in a fraction of a second. He was dead before he could even register that he had missed his target.
Simultaneously, five other thrums echoed through the Larynx Gorge.
The two assassins on the cliff walls were hit by the mines David had pressed into the stone. The granite did not shatter like normal rock. It turned into a black and acidic sludge that devoured the killers instantly.
They melted into the wall like wax. The assassins beneath the Groks were hit by the ground mines. Their legs were vaporized by the sheer density of the mana discharge. They collapsed into the mud and screamed as the acid ate them alive.
In five seconds, the Pale Hand was no longer a unit. They were a collection of dying screams and dissolving shadow-suits. It was a very messy scene.
The mercenaries scrambled and drew their weapons. They were confused and terrified. But there was nothing left to fight. The Wraith was standing on the driver’s bench. His hand was outstretched and his golden-violet eyes were glowing with a terrifying intensity. He looked like the god of the gorge.
David looked at Vane. The leader was slumped on the tailboard of the wagon. His body was twitching as the Void-Rot finished its work. His shadow-mask had dissolved. It revealed a face etched with a horror that was beyond words. He looked like he had seen hell and it was a boy in a grey cloak.
"Count Greyjoy sends his regards," Vane wheezed. Black blood was leaking from his mouth. "But you... you are not a mage. You are a... a mistake. You do not belong here."
"I get that a lot," David replied.
He walked over to the dying man. He did not use a spell. He just looked at the shadow-blade Vane was still clutching in his melting hand. David reached out and touched the hilt of the weapon.
[Reality Edit: Material Density.]
[Multiplier: 100,000x.]
The Tier 6 shadow-blade was an artifact worth a fortune. It did not just break. It crumbled into a pile of fine and black dust as David edited the concept of its structural integrity. He made it so the atoms no longer wanted to stick together.
Vane’s eyes widened with a final look of disbelief. Then they went dark.
David stood in the silence of the Larynx. The mercenaries were staring at him with their mouths open. Gerrard ’s jaw was literally hanging open. They had not seen a fight. They had seen a deletion. The Pale Hand had appeared and then they had simply ceased to be. It was like they were erased from a chalkboard.
"Check the crates," David said. His voice was cold and resonant. "The Groks are fine. We move in five minutes. I do not want to be here when their friends show up."
Gerrard did not argue. He did not even ask questions. He just started shouting orders. His voice was high and shaky. The mercenaries moved with a speed David had not seen before.
Their eyes were darting to the black sludge on the cliff walls. Rose looked at David with a pale face and her heavy ones jiggled as she scrambled back to her post.
David sat back down on the bench. He felt the Chronal Debt pulsing in the back of his mind. It was a faint and rhythmic throb that reminded him that the 100,000x multiplier was a loan and not a gift.
His energy channels felt like they were about to break. His Static Core hummed with heat. He was exhausted.
"Spatial Perception times a hundred thousand," Barnaby murmured. He was still holding his silent flask. "You did not just see them coming, kid. You planned their funerals before they even knew they were dead. That is a very cold way to fight. I like it."
"They were coming to kill me, Barnaby," David said.
His gaze was fixed on the Iron Lung Docks in the distance. "I do not have time for a fair fight. I only have time to win. If I have to be a monster, then I will be the best monster there is."
Barnaby let out a long and slow whistle. "The Architect’s Apprentice. I suppose I should have expected a bit of ruthlessness from you. Just do not lose the boy in the shadow of the man you are becoming. It is a very dark shadow."
David did not answer. He looked at Grim. The wolf was currently sniffing the remains of Vane’s shadow-suit with a look of disappointment. He was probably hoping for a better snack.
"Relatable humor, David," he whispered to himself. He clenched his fist. "You just erased six Tier 6 killers in five seconds. You are officially the scariest thing in this mountain range. I hope the hotel at the Iron Lung has room service. I really want a burger."
[Status Update: Pale Hand Unit Eliminated.]
[Seal Progress: 7.2% Cracked.]
[New Feature Unlocked: Threat Simulation.]
[System Note: That was... efficient. Even I did not think you would turn them into fertilizer that quickly. You are a natural at this.]
David closed his eyes for a moment. He let the cool wind of the Maw wash over his face. He was getting stronger. He was getting faster. But the Great Eye was still watching from above. Count Greyjoy would not stop at assassins. He would send everything he had.
The Iron Lung Docks were looming ahead. It was a city of gears and smoke that held the key to his next growth. As the caravan moved out of the Larynx, David knew that the Wraith was no longer a disguise.
It was becoming his reality. The Pale Hand was just the first blood on a very long road. He was ready for the rest of it. He stood up and looked at the horizon. The future was waiting.