Chapter 464 - See This

I need to attach a warning to this chapter. It's taken me to 4am to finish it and while I think it's good, I'm not sure how reliable my judgement is right now. I've not been able to go over it yet so if you would rather wait, I'll post the edited version tomorrow.

I'm also considering some mashup of the first part of this chapter and the end of last chapter so that there's no chronology confusion. Not sure yet.

Hump had never gathered so much essence. The bead of flame and molten earth crackled and spat as it formed, its brilliant glow casting wild shadows across the vast chamber that held the Seal of Elenvine. Bronze and scarlet light danced across the ancient stone, flickering with each pulse of the volatile core.

Before it, Hump stood unmoving, one hand locked upon his staff, the other holding the Book of Infinite Pages, open to Erupting Core. His mind was one of absolute focus as he poured essence into the spell. This time, he did not use the power stored within the Book of Infinite Pages but instead drew upon the depths of his own soul.

In the minutes that had passed, its drain upon him was great. Thread by thread, each moment heavier than the last, but he dared not stop—and his book might yet be needed. It was the most beautiful spell he'd ever conjured. Not elegant, not refined, but raw, elemental, and impossibly alive. It shifted with molten grace, swirling in patterns unlike anything he'd ever seen. This was no simple magic—it was a force of nature, a volcano given form. A single point of energy resisting him.

The minutes bled past in silence, save for the hissing of magic and the deep groan of shifting stone. Occasionally, there was a crack as heat fractured the chamber's foundation. The core pulsed before him, each beat a test of his will.

The sensation of something immense pressing in on all sides, threatening to burst free the moment his concentration wavered. They clawed at the edges of his control like a beast straining against its chains. He sent the intent of fire and earth combined—the explosive power contained within, desperate for any route to escape.

His battle robes rippled in the arcane storm, sweat streaking down his temples only to vanish into steam. Yet despite the heat, the magic wrapped him in a cocoon of protection. The air was thick with essence, humming with energy so dense it shimmered like a mirage.

Streams of light rippled into the core from every direction, twisting inward like a hurricane of flame and fury. They roared through the chamber, kicking up gales that sent debris and loose stone skittering across the ground.

And all the while, the spell drew more from him—more than Hump had ever summoned, more than he had thought possible. For him alone.

It was only when he neared completion that he realised why. The core did not draw just upon his own energy, but upon that of the world around it. And here, in the chamber of the Seal of Elenvine, its essence was so dense that some of it surged to him.

The core swelled, bright as the sun, so hot that at its centre it turned white. Threads of bronze and red lashed outward in wild arcs. Where they struck the floor or the walls, they didn’t just burn—they shattered.

Deep cracks tore from the stone, glowing with molten heat. Red lightning streaked from the ceiling, drawn into the growing core, each bolt accompanied by a thunderous boom that shook the chamber to its bones. Chunks of stone rose from the cracks, suspended in the air around the core, circling it slowly, caught in the spell’s gravity. Even the dust shimmered, pulled from the earth. The very air seemed to breathe from the spell, inhaling and exhaling in time with Hump’s own breath, and still the power grew.

Hump’s body trembled beneath the weight of it. His knees buckled. His fingers were numb from the cold of essence use. While his essence reserves were still relatively full, drawing upon so much at once was taking its toll. His vision blurred at the edges. The pressure was almost unbearable. Every moment was a battle. Every heartbeat the threads of the spell fought to break free. Fought to be unleahsed.

His teeth clenched so tightly they ached, but he held. More.

He gave it more.

He willed every bit of power into it, envisioning Warlock Anthony beyond the door, and his friends fighting him. Holding him in place until Hump was ready.

Waiting for him to land the spell that would earn them the day.

The ancient power in the room fed him. The essence of the world came to him, answering his call. Surging from the earth and the air. Pouring from his soul.

And still he demanded more.

More.

More.

It fought him, but Hump’s mind only grew more focused. He was the Wielder of the Winds. He was the Bearer of Infinity. And he would not lose to it. The essence of the world was his, and it would obey him!

The core swelled, splitting with veins of white-hot light. Plates of glowing rock floated across its surface, cracking and reforming in an endless cycle of destruction and rebirth. The arcs of essence grew fiercer. The lightning struck faster. The circling stones now spun faster, drawing closer to the core, caught in its building power.

Power enough to make a Rank 8 wizard fear.

“Open.” Hump’s voice came as a whisper, not because he lacked the strength, but because it was all he could muster without breaking the spell’s balance.

Prince Gregory moved to the door without farther instruction. He gave Hump one look, and Hump saw the fear on his face as he took a large step around him, trying to keep away. And then, with a quick pull of the handle and a push, the door swung open.

The scene awaiting Hump was one of blood and pain. The power of his spell only added to the chaos. An aura of shadow and blood filled the room, as Celaine and Anthony’s manifested souls fought for control.

Flesh and blood tainted every part of the tunnel, the white light of the walls shining through in places, illuminating everything with an eerie quality. The bodies and flesh of demons floored what Hump could see of the tunnel. Some were blocks of ice, others lay with arrow wounds, or severed heads and cracked skulls. There were dozens of them, and more in line to storm the tunnel, waiting beyond where Anthony stood.

Emilia had stumbled back. Dylan was on the ground and covered in blood, struggling to his feet. Bud alone stood before Anthony, blood pouring from his armour in many places, leaking between the gaps of the joints.

Before Hump could say a word, Bud threw himself forward, latching onto Anthony like a child might cling to their father. Frostfire blazed across his body, roaring like a man on fire, the first crystals of ice blooming, climbing Anthony’s legs.

“Now!” the knight shouted. “Do it!”

Hump didn’t speak the command. He couldn’t.

For a single, treacherous second, he froze—eyes wide, heart thundering. The weight of everything hit him like a hammer to the chest. The battle. The blood. His injured friends… and Bud, impossibly close to Anthony.

Even that momentary lapse in foce was enough for the Erupting Core blazed in his grasp, no longer a bead of light but a writhing orb of volcanic wrath. Sparks hissed from it, filling the chamber. The very air burned around it. The rune-laced staff in Hump’s hand vibrated violently, nearly wrenched from his grip. It was too late to stop it now. He’d poured too much power into it—past the limit of what he could control.

Whether he wanted to or not, all he could do was unleash it. He aimed high with his staff, doing all he could to avoid striking his friend, intent only on Warlock Anthony.

And then the words escaped him. “Erupting Core.”

The sound that filled the chamber was that of the earth breaking, the world shaking, the sky booming—a crack beyond any other. The walls screamed, the ceiling groaned, and the very ground beneath them seemed to recoil from the force.

And then heat.

The bead of concentrated power didn’t simply erupt. Its shifting stones split apart, split by heaving streams of lava that spewed forth in a shower of sparks and embers. Black smoke burst from its heart, laced with red lightning. The ground beneath the orb turned to molten stone, oozing from the cracks like blood from an open wound. A gale of embers whirled into the chamber, swirling with a high-pitched whine. The air was filled with roaring magic.

The bead imploded, sucking in air, dust, and everything that surrounded it, folding in on itself like a collapsing stone. It folded in on itself like crushed stone, every layer compressing tighter, faster, hotter—until nothing remained but a perfect, suspended orb of molten essence. It pulsed in midair, a terrible sphere of focused destruction, its surface rolling like lava under glass. For a single heartbeat, the world held its breath.

A jet of molten stone and scorching heat blasted forth, a column of incandescent fury that screamed through the tunnel. It roared through the tunnel like a dragon’s breath given shape

Hump sensed something he had only felt a few times—the weight of a domain. As Anthony called forth his power, the blood of the demons that filled the room around him rose to his command. The world turned red. Essence became his. But Hump had already put too much of himself into the spell. There was no turning it back. No shaking it from its path.

A wall of thick blood formed before Anthony—only to be broken by an arrow.
And then it was upon him.

It engulfed the warlock.

Anthony screamed. Not words. Just pure, raw agony. Bud screamed too, still clinging to him, Frostfire surging across his body as he tried to hold the warlock in place. The heat surged over him like a tidal wave.

Dylan threw himself into the torrent, shoulder first, slamming into Bud and knocking him out of the line of fire. Mist and ice erupted over Dylan’s skin at the contact. He grunted, rolling through the flames, smoke rising from his mantle as fire licked at his limbs. Bud lay on his back, an arm moving weakly to try to pat out his smouldering shoulder. Emilia rushed to help him.

The tunnel shook under the spell’s fury. Demons behind Anthony had no time to scream. The fire took them, skin searing, bones blackening, until only mounds of grey slag remained. The ceiling glowed red-hot and collapsed in molten slabs. The spell carved a canyon of death, reducing the enemy to nothing.

He stared into the chaos, the dark outline of a figure still standing. It was silent now.

Please be enough, Hump thought.

As the smoke and light cleared, Anthony remained on his feet. His flesh was charred and black, peeling away in sheets. One arm hung by threads. Bone showed at his ribs. His face was an unrecognisable mask of cracked skin and exposed muscle, and yet… his body was knitting itself back together.

Slowly. Painfully. But he was not yet dead. The domain still fed him. Blood poured to him in rivers, soaking into his flesh. It healed him, but not quickly. They had time.

The warlock roared and raised a hand.

The blood surged upward, shaping itself into dozens of jagged daggers. They streaked through the air toward Hump.

Hump raised his staff, calling upon Shield after Shield to form layers of protection between him and the attack. The daggers shattered against them with violent cracks, splinters of red breaking off and turning back to blood, splattering over the surface of the barriers before they shattered. One by one, falling to the attack.

From the side, Celaine loosed an arrow, silver and shadow dancing in the air as it pierced forward, burying itself in Anthony’s shoulder. There was an explosion of power. The impact severed his arm, and the limb fell with a sickening slap.

Anthony roared and spun—but Emilia was already there. Sword drawn, robes aflame with aura, she slammed into him with a warrior’s cry. Metal rang. Blood flew. They clashed in a frenzy of blade and blood.

Hump didn’t let up, marching forward, passing Celaine as he went. He launched spell after spell. Titan’s Wrath, Rock Shot, Focused Beam, Lava Coils. Anthony reeled under their onslaught, but his domain kept feeding him. Kept him on his feet. And somehow continued to retaliate.

Dylan moved to the flank, vines bursting from the ground to form a twisted Briar Cage. Roots tightened around Anthony’s legs and waste, locking him in place.

Hump continued forward, striding across the ruined tunnel. Each step brought him closer, tightening the range of his spells until his magic hit like a hammer. The fury of Erupting Core still crackled in his staff. His robes whipped in the residual wind of his own power. His spellbook shifted pages constantly, answering to his thoughts and granting him its aid.

Anthony looked up, breathless. His one remaining eye locked with Hump’s. He was afraid. The shadows trembled behind him. The blood of his domain oozed, slow and sluggish.

And then his eye found the book.

“The Book of Infinity…” Anthony rasped. “You must… let me see it.”

Hump didn’t blink.

“See this.”

He raised his staff toward the warlock’s face and bathed it in fire.