Max’s senses were yelling at him. Between the heat, burnt smell, and magical pressure, traversing further would be dangerous. Every few moments beings from the Dimension of Flame would fall from the portal in the sky, bolstering the flood of death. The surrounding area of the Plains were quickly mimicking the volcanic and hellish landscape of the Dimension. Most of the grass was burnt away, craters broke the flat land, and the lack of moister replicated a desert.

They were getting closer to the space-lock, Max assured. But it felt as if they had made little progress. Between fighting off beasts, the raising temperature, and lack of ammunition, the three [Water Mages] were venturing into unsafe territory. It had to be done, though. Destroying the lock would solve most of their problems. At least, short term. The main source of heat would be cut off, along with the main forces of enemies. Bush fires would be an issue, but those would eventually be put out with magical means.

Long term, on the other hand, many things could happen. Depending on the events today, lines would be drawn, relationships would dissolve, and allies would be made. In the back of his mind, Max worried about Lesterwood. He trusted Bishop and Icarus to handle the situation, but in the end, he couldn’t help but worry about his home. Leaving suddenly was important, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

Max held out a hand, pulling Vel up from a crevice. Emi scouted ahead a bit, being sure not to venture too far. Vel was slowing down, which put even more of a time limit on the situation. Age had caught up to her in Esmel, the Coalition was supposed to be a break from the drama.

“It’s close. The air has… Changed.” Max looked ahead, misting space mana around himself. As he did this, he could see what he called the ‘fabric of reality’. The ‘fabric’ seemed like normal space, but with occasional blips and errors. Tracing the errors, a mesh of thickly woven mana conduit appeared. The conduits made up the lock, he knew. Every time he attempted to interact with them, his mana would snap back.

Max guessed it would be possible to cast space spells inside a lock, but the difficulty was immeasurable. One would have to bend and manipulate their mana weaving through each tree trunk like conduit, as if stepping through a laser security system from a spy movie. It just couldn’t be done, at least not at his current skill level.

“Good.” Vel huffed, “You can teleport us out of this, right? I don’t want to traverse back through that mess.”

The sad reality of the situation, and one that Max realized as they walked through, was that this section of the Plains was lost. It would take many years for nature to take back its hold. That was also what made this situation different than Esmel. Esmel was protectible. The city was not in total ruin the moment the bad guy activated his attack, the Coalition however, was destroyed by a single attack. Esmel had hope, which was not present here.

“Yeah.” Max answered, “Do you have water in your ring? I don’t know what to expect, but I don’t believe for a moment whoever activated this is not going to fight back.”

“I have my gourd. It should be enough for the three of us, at least for a short fight.” Vel thought for a moment, “And if we don’t fight each other for control.”

The strange part about the space-lock, at least what Max thought was strange, was that inventory rings still worked. The obvious reasoning for this was that the rune powering the lock would be shut off itself , thus resuming normal magical flow. That left some margin of vulnerability, but none Max could exploit giving the current situation.

“Understood. I think I have a way to summon as much water as we want, if we destroy the lock that is.”

“Just kill fast.” Emi said, returning. “I saw a man. He was laughing to himself.”

Vel sighed, “Sounds about right. Someone who could release this must be lacking in the head.”

“He was just sitting there laughing?”

“He’s playing with a knife.” Emi answered, “Bad at it, many cuts.”

Vel stopped. Slowly, very slowly she turned to look at Emi, “How many cuts?”

“A few. They were deep, though.”

“Max, Emi, listen to me very carefully. I am going to attack with everything I have. As soon as I do, you two have to freeze his body. Do NOT let any more blood spill free.” Vel ignored the strange looks, “Better yet, Max, once he’s dead put him in your inventory.”

“O-Okay. Let’s hurry then?”

The man was sitting, just as Emi said. He was gruff and muscly, like a construction worker. His tan ended just beyond the forearm but before his rolled up sleeves. A small knife was being carved into his palm, dripping blood on a mirror of sand. A cylinder of spiraling mana rotated besides him, like a vacuum centrifuge. Mana was being pulled in, manipulated into conduits, and sent out. Vel recognized the man, he had offered to guide her to the Coalition only wanting booze in return.

She cursed, blood was pooling, a lot of blood. A single needle of ice shot out, taking the man by surprise. The shadow aspect the ice took on camouflaged it in the dirty foreground. It pierced through the man’s chest, stopping mid-way. He then exploded from the inside, as the spell finished its effect. Small pinpricks jutted from his skin, teetering with blood. Max and Emi did as instructed, rushing forward while freezing the body.

Before they got close, a spike of blood shot out of the pool dripping off the mirror. The javelin entered the man’s chest like a mosquito feasting. Max felt his control over the body melt away, just like the ice inhibiting the body. The spike gulped in the man’s blood, thickening with every breath.

“Destroy the lock!” Vel yelled, “Ignore the body!”

Max and Emi felt the air shift again, dreadfully so. Feet began to form from the increasing pool of blood, toes twitching with their newfound life. The cylinder of magic repelled their first attacks, rebounding them like a brick wall. Water surged forth as Vel added her magic, the three [Water Mages] attacked together. Each bolt of ice, pressurized beam of water, or superheated blast made little progress. The powerful spells were absorbed while the weaker were simply deflected.

The bloody feet were now connected to knees and the hems of a dress were starting to form. The spike continued to drink. Vel switched targets, attacking the blood. Gallons of water formed into a wave, crashing with the power of the tide. The water briefly turned red, but the lost pigment was recovered with a swirl of mana.

Blades slashed into the lock as globs of water pressurized with heat and steam. Explosions dislodged the lock from where it sat, blasting it a few dozen meters away. The air shifted; Max paused. He misted space mana, viewing the conduits. They shuddered, like a tensioned spring being let go. In that brief moment, he saw a pattern emerge. The conduits moved back to the cylinder in a-

A hand grabbed the back of his neck, lifting him a few inches off the ground. Emi and Vel were both shouting, slinging spells at the red woman. She ignored them. Black shadows wrapped around the woman’s leg, flexing in attempt to pull the woman over. The affected areas fell apart, moved, and reformed back into a leg and foot.

“Stop, or I kill him.” The woman’s voice was oddly comforting. Terrifying and cold, but pleasant.

The attacks stopped; Max was let free.

Superior Blood Clone (Source: Serana Cresthill)

She was thinly, a complementing dress draped down her shoulders. Her face was obscured, as if looking through a frosted mirror. Otherwise, she looked plain, except for the fact she was crimson red. It was hard to tell, but Max thought she was smiling.

“Max Fowler. Lost Lord. Savior of Esmel. It is nice to meet you, your success in Esmel has given you a reputation in my circle of confidants.” She reached out to stroke Max, he pivoted backwards. The smile turned into a frown. “Truth be told, I had a little bet with a certain [Doppelganger] you know… Well, I guess he won.”

As she spoke, Max searched for an out. He conversed with Emi about attack formations, timings, even escape routes. To the pair it was obvious they were out classed. Even with Vel, enough water, and space magic, a single clone was too much for them. They needed to destroy the lock and leave.

His neck felt raw, five already bruising fingerprints circled his spine. He was afraid to heal himself, not wanting to anger the woman. Internally, the infinite beach was calm. Tiodepth was gone. Max could feel his presence, as if the Leviathan was still watching but not with normal means.

“What did it win?” Max choked out, trying his best to hold back his fear.

“Its life.” The frown flipped again, “Nix bet I would find you interesting. And… it was correct.”

Max glanced to Vel. Her eyes were darting back and forth, looking for possible advantages. Water trickled out of her robes, soiling the dirt, and spreading around. The woman was too close, any attack Vel used would risk friendly fire. Max took a risk; he stepped back splitting his source of water. In a smooth and subtle motion, he healed his neck and added the rest into the dirt.

“Interesting how?” He asked, hoping she would continue the conversation.

“Interesting in the sense that even when facing the unknown, you act confident. You felt my strength, yet you don’t hesitate to heal your wounds and spread your influence.”

Max and Vel’s water stopped. Both their connections dropped, like the water was poison. “Is that right?”

The red woman nodded; she began to speak but stopped herself. She stepped forward; this time Max was too afraid to step back. The back of her hand gently swiped over his cheek. “Confidence is not kneeling in my presence.” A pain shot through Max’s face, she leaned in next to his ear, “Foolish confidence. Kneel.”

The words came out as a whisper, but fear echoed the intent. Max fell to one leg, his cheek burning. He was shaking. As he looked at the woman’s feet, rather, as he tried not to look at the woman at all, he noticed it. His space mana misting was still active. A slap found his face, knocking him to the ground. Emi yelped in retaliation.

“Quiet monster. You are next, do not worry.” The woman turned back to Max. He was crawling slightly, dirt and straw stuck to his clothes. “Did I say you could leave?”

Max wasn’t listening, the pain was drowning out all sound. His skull was most likely fractured, his brain shaken also. He traced the conduits, following the pattern he saw moments ago. Emi shouted at him through their bond, but he closed the connection. She was full of rage, an emotion that would not help in this moment.

Vel saw a chance, Max had been hit far enough away. All of the water in the dirt moved at once, shifting the ground. The floor sunk in; a quagmire opened. The clone fell a short distance and found herself unable to get out. The ground froze over as Emi launched hail of attacks until their sources of water ran dry. The crimson woman was spliced apart. As if mocking them, the blood dropped from its shaped state, moving out of the ice and reforming.

“A good attempt, but one made in haste and foolishness. Veline, I thought you to be smarter than this…”

The woman blurred, reappearing directly in front of Vel. She kicked; Vel went flying. Mana surged out, fear fueled her spellwork, melting the ice and drawing it for protection. It was too slow, however. Shadows were not known for material effects, but Vel was dispirit. A cocoon of black threads encompassed her, softening the landing just enough. The woman blurred again, following.

Emi assisted, moving the source of water in range of her mentor. It turned black, rushing with increased speed, and forming into armor. Vel’s staff bolstered, forming into a halberd, and slicing down. The clone split in half mid-step, reforming the next.

Sharp claws extended out of the woman’s fingers, cutting through the watery armor and into flesh. The red lines in Vel’s skin zipped away, extending into the clone’s body. It shivered with delight. The cuts were gone a moment later, but the effects were seen. Every spilled drop of blood would be more fuel for the woman to work with.

Emi moved to Max, trusting in Vel to hold the menace off. Max was… Still crawling, his eyes were unfocused and darting back and forth. He muttered incoherent words under his breath. Emi moved what little water she could find. Brain injuries took a lot of time to heal, the faster Max was coherent enough to fix himself with Divine mana, the better.

Red feet stopped Emi’s hopes. The woman stood over her and Max, looking down with a blurred expression. Vel laid unmoving a few dozen meters away.

“Now then, where were we.” The words were smooth yet terrifying. “Max, tell me, what did Mallor find in Esmel? He was so proud of himself, giddy even. ‘I finally found it!’ he would bark. Such a good little mutt. What did he find, Max?”

Max didn’t answer, Emi thought about telling the woman. Anything for her to stop. But she didn’t get the chance to. The air shifted again; mana swirled. Max opened his connection to Emi, he smiled to her. His mana turned hard, draining away the last of his Divine source. The healing to his head was strengthened, patching up the worst of the damage. He wobbled at first but found a position on his knees, Emi helping him stay stable.

“He found death.” Max’s words popped with mana. The air shifted again; the whirlpool of mana stopped. Everything stopped; he teleported.

A portal opened a few hundred meters below the Dimensional gate. Comparatively, the new portal was small, very small. But its construction was made purely with mana, which shimmered with blue-purple jagged edges. A second portal anchored deep underwater, where light didn’t shine, and fish reigned supreme. They connected; bubbles formed underwater, rushing upward with tremendous haste while an equal volume of water poured out. A dam had been opened.

They ran. Their speed was slow, having to drag Alia was difficult but they couldn’t leave her behind. The screams were testament enough for that decision. Every few minutes a haunted screech of pain would sound. Tortured, weathered, howls of pain, the kind caused by an endless onslaught of wicked magic. The [King] of Salae knew it well. Blood Magic.

“Let this be a lesson, Eden. Execute all [Blood Mages] before they can do this!” Tobyn spoke out of past reflection. His judgement over his tenure of Salae had some glaring errors. Political, economic, lost opportunities, but worst of all, allowing the Blood [Queen] to live.

She was only a young, newly crowned [Queen] when they first met. An accord between Cresthill and Salae, a partnership for a better future. Lies, deceit, bigotry, all sowed the seeds of vengeance, depravation, and death. A stain marked the start, a simple misunderstanding between low-ranked guard platoons on the border between lands. The war could have been avoided. Cresthill could have lived on. But the [Queen] fell into dark magics, and even darker organizations.

Allowing her to live was supposed to be a chance for her people. But pleas for help were drowned out by bureaucratic noise. The [Queen] was sacrificing her people, gaining strength in the process. Millions died over the course of a single month, systematically killed. Cresthill had been sundered, only skeletal remains of the once vibrant country could be found.

“Not the time!” Eden shouted back. His body was strained. He and the other Knight, the non-injured one, dragged Alia. A twin pair of trails followed her boots, casting an easy track in the dirt.

They had a goal, reach the other side of a large crater. A carriage laid on its side, the kind with hover runes and auto balancing features. An expensive model, most likely one of the Gnome leader’s. They liked to flaunt their wealth to the other leaders and delegates. The issue arose of if they couldn’t flip the cart right side up, or if something internal was broken. But they didn’t think about that, they couldn’t.

The screams were getting more distant. The King’s warning had sent the remaining survivors into a frenzy. Everyone scattered, some found refuge elsewhere, others fell to flame beasts. But regardless, any outcome was better than facing the Blood [Queen]. But the quieted screams left a stale terror in the air. Less screams meant less distractions.

The crater was too large and too jagged to go around, let alone the unknown enemies that stalked the perimeter. The smooth concave depression into the ground was their best chance with the allotted time. They shuffled Alia between each of the able, assisting each other down the sloped fall. It took time. A lot of time, too much time. The Blood Clone arrived just before they reached the other side.

“Still hiding your face?” The [King] of Salae asked. He stood tall, chest puffed out and hand on his hip. The two [Knights] and Eden continued to try and pull Alia up the final obstacle.

“Tobyn.” The words sounded pleasant, a horrid façade. “I didn’t expect you to come in person, you are rather old.”

He nodded in agreement, like an old friend, “This was supposed to be my last outing. Not much left for me in this world, I’m afraid.”

“Tobyn, Tobyn, Tobyn, there is plenty remaining in this world for you.” The clone took a step forward, the [King] held his stature.

“Maybe so, but my time is limited. My age has caught up.”

For a brief moment, the clone’s facial veil flickered, revealing a mid-aged woman with a look of guilt. She snarled, returning the veil. A moment passed where both didn’t speak, but as the tension grew, so did the [Queen]’s appetite.

“Is that young Eden? I think Evelynn was still pregnant with him, last time we all were together.”

Tobyn twitched at the mention of his wife, “You mean at your trial?” The words came out as a growl.

The clone waved off the remark. Under the veil her eyes hopped between the King’s entourage. “Is that… No… Is that Alia? She looks just like Evelynn. It took me a moment to recognize her, is she unconscious? I can fix that.”

Before Tobyn could decline, the clone disappeared. The movement was too fast for the [King] to see, only the [Royal Guards] reacted in time. One drew his sword, the other a small dagger. They both froze, a crimson finger gently rested upon each of their foreheads. Fighting his fear and adhering to his duty, a sword swiped down in a blaze of aura. The clone’s arm was detached at the shoulder, it fell to the ground where it liquefied and reformed through her feet.

“Back away, boys. I am just trying to wake up my niece.”

“Do as she says.” Tobyn’s words were hollow.

“Father? You are just going to let this wretch-“ Eden’s words were cut, his throat was squeezed.

“Quiet, child.” The clone held the prince just off the ground, her smile hidden beneath the veil. Without letting go, she lifted her other hand, and a blast of mana exited her palm. Alia coughed; her eyes shocked open. “There we are! My beautiful niece Alia!”

Alia’s scurried back, her nails dug into the dirt with every hasten movement. She had awoken to a nightmare. Fear gripped her tongue, she recognized the [Queen].

“She’s not your niece, Serana.” Tobyn spoke, drawing her ire.

“Evelynn said I was a sister to her.” The [Queen] dropped Eden and stalked up to the [King]. “Or are you going to say I falsified verbal conversation again? Trust me, you do not wish for that.”

She was referring to her trial, where Salae prepared documents and paid off witnesses. At least, if you were to believe the defendant, “Evelynn said ‘like’ a sister.”

The veil flicked again; a crimson frown twisted into a demented laugh. “Are you saying we are not blood.” The pun was lost on the King, “Are you saying we are not family? Most of my family is still alive, the ones who didn’t kill themselves after Cresthill’s fall, that is.”

Tobyn’s eyes narrowed. His wrinkles covered most of his face, turning his expression resentful. “Leave her alone.” He snarled.

“I don’t kill family.” A spear of blood shot backwards from the clone, out of her elbow and through one of the guard’s necks. The man’s blood shivered, falling into the [Queen]’s control. The [Knight]’s eyes exploded in a rain of viscera; branches of solidified blood skewered out. The second [Knight] fell as his armor and stomach spilled out. Both of the bodies withered, turning into prunes as their blood raced to their new host.

Eden’s pants became soaked with urine, the [Queen] noticed.

“Soiled yourself, child? Laughable.” Serana mimicked her words and giggled, “Tell me, child, why did you wet yourself? What about this situation triggered it?”

Eden froze, his mind tried to find a response. But the absurdity of the situation overcame his tongue. What about the situation didn’t cause it? He thought to himself, afraid to echo his inner monolog.

“Oho? Tobyn, do tell me, have you not trained your son? Does he not know how to think under pressure?” She realized something, “That is why you came! You have to show Eden how to conduct himself! Oh hohoho~” The vile woman cackled; her posture hunched over as her clone body jolted with laughs.

“I bet you never punished him, either? Just like how you didn’t truly punish me. Allow me-“ The [Queen] blurred, stepping before the prince with an outstretched arm.

“No!” The [King]’s words boomed with mana as authority stretched through his voice. He briefly fought for control of the clone’s movements but failed not a breath later. Eden screamed.

The prince turned red as his body boiled. His veins opened; his blood flow reversed. His eyes and ear bled, warmth fell down his cheeks and neck. Tears mixed red, blending in with his blotted skin. His mind fell apart. He crumbled to the ground, unconscious.

“I minimized the damage to his brain; we don’t want the future [King] of Salae to be set in oblivion forever.” Her laugh masked the shift in the air.

“Torture me, leave them alone…” Tobyn’s words were quiet. His eyes were locked on his son, and his mind filtered through his past failings. Would this be his legacy? Killed by an enemy he showed mercy on? A monster hiding among the sheep?

The ground shook, “Would you look at that. One of the mighty beings of flame must have heard his screams. It just changed course.”

The [King] didn’t move, his eyes remained on his son. Serana looked to Alia. “Your brother and father seem a little helpless in this moment. Should I end them-“

The air shifted; the clone stopped, looking into the distance. “That maggot”

The crimson woman cursed, dropping down before the King and meeting him eye for eye. “Contrary to your beliefs, I do not wish for Salae to fall. My Goddess does not wish for Salae to fall. You house someone important to her, and your incompetency is the only thing keeping him alive.”

She stood, craning her back as if stretching, “What I’m trying to say, is that I cannot kill you directly. But,” Mana reached out, twisting the King’s neck to the side, “I am not that thing.”

A goat with the head of a snake stomped forward. It was the size of a mansion, and its eyes were dead set on the bottom of the crater. But the King hardly noticed the monster. Instead, he saw a torrent of falling water attached to an overhead portal. For a moment, Tobyn imagined himself bathing in the waterfall, away from the heat and the stress of the situation.

“You better go then.” The King said which was followed by a hysteric laugh from his adversary. She disappeared into a red mist.