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Tread Lightly: Among Monsters And Men

In a twisted version of the Old West, where Native American fables come to life, the land is teeming with blight and cessation. Skinwalkers, Bakwas, Urayuli, and even the dreaded Wendigo roam freely, constantly terrorizing humanity. In this unforgiving landscape, survival becomes the supreme dream, luxury an impossibility. But hope lies in Ether, an eccentric substance that defies reason, and Sigils, granting individuals extraordinary abilities. So, as men and women from the burgeoning East venture into the treacherous West, they must navigate the nightmares that lurk within the wilderness and the horrors from above, below, and within. Survival becomes a battle for the mind, body, and soul. Each step must be taken lightly, lest they fall prey to a grim fate—a forgotten corpse, a demon's feast, or the plaything of ancient and incomprehensible beings. Fools tread where angels fear to gaze, yet not all fools let themselves wilt. Some are simply too stubborn to break.

Broken_Saint · Ação
Classificações insuficientes
530 Chs

Synergy

With my back pressed to the stalactite that I tied the rope around, I fight in two different directions, forcing Strugglers Gasp into my lungs again due to my weakness. And I immediately take advantage of the lapse of strength in the Plagued from the Ether being siphoned out of them; I stab the closest four in the head before any of them can recover.

But when they do, I'm pushed back to the stone spike. I grip the dagger tightly in my hand, my back pressed against the cold stone spike as the mindless horde of Plagued closes in on me from both sides. I know I can't take them all on alone, but I must hold them off until the others can climb up the rope to safety.

Their low growls and guttural moans grow louder with each step they take, making my heart beat even faster. I can see their eyes, empty of all but that dark silver, fixed on me as they run closer, their clawed hands reaching out.

I take a deep breath and steel myself, ready for the onslaught. As they lunge at me, I move quickly, sidestepping their attacks and darting in with my dagger to strike at their necks and head, the best way to fell a Plagued or Motherbound due to their crazed nature. The adrenaline pumping through my veins keeps me moving, dodging and weaving between them as I fight for my life.

But I can feel my energy draining, my movements growing slower as fatigue sets in, the air in my lungs wanting to break free, and Release's duration running out and slowing my steps. I know I can't hold them off for much longer, and I desperately scan the area for any sign of anyone. But I don't see anyone. The rope is being pulled, evident due to its taut nature, but no one seems to be close. I can't hear any fighting other than my own.

And then, just as I feel my strength faltering, my breath refusing to be held another second, I hear the sound of an explosion similar to the sound Bonfire made right before his group made an impact with the water. Relief floods me as I redouble my efforts, pushing back against the horde with renewed vigor.

I expel my Ether through several Blasts, each leaving me weaker and slower than the last yet also killing multiple Plagued at a time, just as a man with fire in his hands exploding beneath him is sent up and into the tunnel. He immediately bursts into a burning bonfire of spiraling flame, igniting and quickly eradicating all the Plagued near him as he stands next to the still-ignited bodies and nods to me.

"Johnny thought you'd need some help! Fire isn't good at flying, just big jumps, so I had to make it at least halfway!"

Relief hits me as I partially slump against the wall now that I don't have to fight in two directions simultaneously. As I move to the open lip, I motion him to get to the enclosed part of the tunnel. Fire's more effective in small spaces; my time with Vernon and Virgil in Bonedunes taught me that.

And so, with my back covered, even if it's by a man just as tired as me, the defense of the rope becomes so much easier. Several more minutes pass, all of which are filled with blood, gore, sweat, and the tiring of my body, mind, and soul before I spot a hand breach the top of the stone. The hand is human and weathered full of scars and calluses.

I recognize it as Johnny's just as Bonfire reaches down and pulls the man up, the two then focusing on killing any that come too close to keep those behind safe. My focus turns back to those coming from in front of me as I hold the line, the bodies starting to pile up, well, those I haven't just thrown off into the pit.

Another few seconds pass before another person gets to the top, Lennox, who is carrying Dakota, then another and another as more and more join to help before everyone is at the top. From there, with Johnny in the lead with his blade forged from Blake's ghosts, we all push forward through the Plagued, searching for our friends and a place to rest.

I'm dripping sweat, blood, and tears with how exhausted I am. But, at least, I'm not that wounded. Now that I've learned to make the Bloody Palm take wounds because it can heal, I bleed far less.

Despite my weariness, I shuffle onward, unwilling to fall as we are so close to our goal. Only a bit further.

**************

Collapsing face first into the stone the moment we get some peace, I almost immediately fall asleep. The sound of heavy breathing, people wrapping bandages, and Bonfire's constant cursing fills my ears instead of the continuous fighting.

I roll over onto my back as Dakota sprawls out next to me, the orange fox redder than the color of his fur should indicate. Looking down, I see that I, too, am covered in red. Most of it isn't mine. Mostly. I managed to divert the bulk of wounds to the Bloody Palm, which I'm sure it's not happy about, but I don't care.

If it's going to be a dick unless we are mind controlled, then I will do the same. And it's not like it can't handle it. The literal only place on my body that is not sore or filled with bruises and scrapes is the Bloody Palm, the damn thing so fast at healing that it does it while I'm fighting, not after.

My tired eyes scan the small room we are currently hiding in, Blake requisitioning Johnny's blade to use all of her ghosts to fill the tiny gap we all crawled in so that nothing can see or hear through it.

We are all huddled in this small stone room, seeking refuge from the dangers that lurk outside. Just for a little bit, though. We need to find our friends soon. But we need to rest.

The room is plain and unremarkable, with barely enough space to fit me, the smushed group with me, and the miniature abandoned nest of the Bado that calls it home. Stones are scattered haphazardly across the floor, their rough surfaces pressing uncomfortably against my skin as I try to make myself as small as possible.

The walls are rough-hewn, unadorned by any decoration or even a hint of color. It is a stark reminder of the spire's original purpose, as a fortress built solely for protection and hideout against the harsh world that comes for the birdman within. But for now, it provides a brief respite, a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

Slowly, very slowly, my heart rate calms, and my hands stop shaking. My headache slowly fades as my mind enters slumber, the dark subsuming the sounds of recovery around me. But unlike the previous times I have slept, this one is restless.

Open screaming mouths, flashes of twinkling eyes, and that discomforting spider are the only thing I see during my sleep, and the first things I see when I awake, the images imprinted onto the back of my eyelids as I look around the small room once more. The visions are uncomfortable, but I feel there is something deeper here. Did that

spider-thing affect my mind somehow?

Dakota is staring up at me, his head tilted in confusion. I realize how fast my heart is beating when he grumbles and puts his head back down. The same pace as when I was fighting just a bit ago. I even feel a bit of force on my hand.

Somehow, Ironclad was weaved during my sleep, the intricate Ether pushing my hand off the ground just a few inches. Confused, I gaze at everyone else, all of which are sleeping. Even Lennox and Silas, though, I believe theirs are called something like "stasis," a shittier form of sleep. Apparently, it's far less relieving of stress, both physical and mental, than normal sleep is.

Snores rise from Bonfire, his loud and making me wonder how we weren't found, and also surprisingly from Blake. Those hers are far quieter. Other than that, everything is at peace. Silent and calm. Sitting up a bit and keeping my eyes from closing as much as possible, I take deep breaths, trying to push the thoughts of the Cathedral out of my mind.

The whole place was so, so bizarre.

I don't even want to think about it. Instead, now that my head is feeling better and I have a moment of peace, I want to work on Adrenaline Surge. One of my earliest skills, but one that I only had, branched out into the direction of Rapturous. There must be a way to improve it without changing what it does.

Rapturous is extremely useful, but I feel there should also be a way to use both simultaneously. But how?

Maybe the key lies in another form of Ether manipulation? So far, I know four. First, Single Strand focuses on quantity and pumping as much Ether into something as possible. It's inefficient but priceless in a pinch. Secondly, Many Strand allows one to use a single skill in many places or many skills in one place, etc., like using Physical Strengthening on your hands and feet or multiple skills at once. Third, braided Strand involves tying multiple streams together to increase their efficacy and speed. And fourthly, Steel Steel Strand has one improving the quality of their Ether, allowing their Sigil's signature to bleed through, dying it with its flavor. For someone like Bonfire, it'd coat a bit of fire into his Ether. For me, it's a bit more complicated.

What lies next, though? It's Steam, right? I believe that is what 5th Sigils learn upon advancement and have to spend time to master it. Can I learn it beforehand? I've done it to every other Sigil so far, but I know it gets increasingly difficult as one advances to do so. So much so that 7th Sigils, Angels, are said to be unable to perform Living Strand upon advancement at all, and some might never even reach it.

Steam Strand… if I remember correctly, involves increasing the density of your Ether, moving it from liquid-like streams to gaseous-like hurricanes. Ether is a very curious substance. From Earl, I learned that most things lose density and form as they travel from solid to liquid to gas, but Ether is different. It gains density and shape as it turns into a gas, the deep conformity it has in its gaseous form keeping clouds of Ether together while simultaneously being more efficient than the liquid form.

And yet, it's also said that this changes once more, with the next step, turning Ether to plasma similar to lightning or fire, then ultimately condensing it to solid as Aniwye did to create the Crossroads. Though for both of those, I have no clue where their respective Sigils or manipulation types are.

When I spoke to Johnny about it, he had only spoken of seeing Ether in the plasma form a scarce few times, all from Pillars. Never once had he seen Ether in solid form, and he could barely believe that Aniwye had giant crystals supporting the structure of the Crossroads.

But Steam… how do I condense it to reach even just that much? Is it to focus on will like Steel Strand? No, it has to be more profound than that. But maybe it isn't? So, unable to answer my questions, I get to testing, trying to focus and condense the Ether within my mind.

Gathering my will and a large stream of Ether swirling in my mind, I try to force it to condense, shrink, and grow. But nothing happens. All it does is grow resplendent like usual when I use Steel Strand.

Fuck. How do I do this? I could just wake Johnny, but I want to let them sleep. I half regret not asking about it before, but I am still a ways away from advancing. I wasn't really expecting to want to learn Steam Strand, though it should always be a goal to improve my Ether.

But I don't give up. I keep trying repeatedly, constantly failing to condense the Ether to any meaningful amount with just my will. A few hours pass like this until everyone else rouses, our journey restarting quickly.

Somewhat rested and without any significant or debilitating wounds, I crawl out of the hole first, Blake dissipating her ghosts in the way as I do so. I tilt my head and twist my ears for the sound of any movement, but I hear none. So, pushing myself out a bit further into the tunnel we found, I look around for anyone or anything nearby.

Still finding nothing, I force myself all the way out and whisper into the crawlspace.

"Coast is clear. C'mon."

Johnny comes out next after me, a ghostly blade forming in his hand with Blake on his tail. I know Johnny regrets giving away his Downpour, but he does make a damn good swordsman with the agility and deftness of his arms and hands.

The Gunfighter looks at me and nods, speaking a few words as everyone starts to spread out in this remote tunnel. Only a few dead bodies of Plagued join us as they were what was chasing us before we went into the hiding hole.

"Go ahead and use your Echo. Let us know if you hear anything important."

I nod back at him and close my eyes, Tempering my senses so that only my hearing remains as I focus everything on that precise purpose. I go so far as to Release my eardrums, the chains leaving the sides of my head as the world becomes clear through sound.

Slowly, amidst the growing sound of breathing around me, I focus. I filter out the rush of blood in my veins, the thudding of my heart, and the whoosh of my breath. Instead, I hear the creaking of the old stone spire, the skittering of small unknown creatures, and the scratching of the Bado's claws on the walls as the Plagued move not too far from us. We are barely hidden from them; just a stone wall over, I can hear over a dozen shambling about.

Further, unwilling to stop there, I force through the noises, letting my Echo guide me deeper into the spire. I hear the sounds of the crazed creatures grow distant. The breathing of Motherbound enters my ears as my mind goes from a tunnel to a tunnel, plunging into the spire, far below the ground to which the pit took us. The deep, low, and gravelly sound of the Motherbound sticks out to me.

And there is where my hearing stops. The sound of a Motherbound whispering in an unknown language, the voice impossible to recognize or understand. There must be Manipulator among them. Only they can speak, right? Wait, no. Two-Faces can too. But I don't recognize the voice, so it's either a Two-Face of a Bado or a Manipulator.

But even with that information, I'm not satisfied. That's not what I wanted to know. I need to find Sacate. Virgil. Abraham. All the others. With a deep breath, an idea comes to me.

With another deep breath, Ether fills my lungs and enters my body, Ether that I push into my skull, where the chains have been removed from my eardrums.

What happens if I put Ether into something that already has its chains removed?

The answer comes to me instantly as my ears pop, and I almost fall. My feet trip out from underneath me as the entirety of Strugglers Gasp fills my ears with such power that I bleed from the simple whisper beside me, a clawing a hundred feet away, and those incomprehensible words over a thousand feet away.

I raise my hands and wave at everyone, pointing to my ears despite being unable to see them. But it works; they get my meaning and grow quiet. Most going so far as to hold their breaths.

And from there, I push my Echo even further with this new revelation. Release has secrets held within it. Simply releasing the chains is not the end. Development still exists. The peak has not been reached.

The creaking of stone, dripping water, and the omnipresent shuffling of the Plagued encompass my ears as I expand them as far as I can, a growing headache due to all the sensory information. I know my nose is bleeding, and my ears probably are too, but I can't stop yet. I am close. I can feel it.

So, I go further, into the depths of the spire, my mind and hearing go. And I hear a faint whisper just as things shrink into utter stillness. A soft hum that grows into multiple. A smile comes upon my face as I realize I've found them.

Their voices are low and urgent, their words too faint for me to make out except for one curse, coming from an obviously annoyed Abraham.

"I told you I should have gone. Bonfire isn't responsible enough. How is he supposed to find us when we are always on the move? The dumbass could barely find his way back to Rustbank."

A chuckle comes from my chest without a thought to stop it as I groan in pain from the noise that shakes me from the deepest part within.

Quickly, I stop using Echo, return all my senses to me, and push the Ether back into my lungs from my ears to breathe out. As I do so, the rush shocks my mind, everything trembling as I pull myself out of the focused hearing.

Then with shakes in my legs coming from my back, blood running down my face, not to mention the straining migraine, I let the others know. My ears continue to ring as I stand, the aftershock of Echo taking a bit to fade.

"I found 'em. Their deep in the spire, constantly on the move."

I think I know why Release has a type of cooldown period and duration. If it didn't, I'd kill myself with it quite quickly. Pushing Ether into the Released part has quite the kickback afterward. Even if I didn't have Strugglers Gasp, my limit of Ether alone would allow me to push that skill far beyond what it should be. Quite the synergy, even if dangerous.

I like it.