Penitent

Chapter 247 Book 4 Ch 28: Shapely Souls

They moved through the forests quickly, their every movement muffled by Ollie as they closed in on the nearest rift. They found it in a small clearing, more than two dozen horned men gathered around it in a makeshift camp. There were no signs of any lizardfolk or harpies, but in the center of the camp, chewing on what looked to be a corpse, was one of the scorpion-like insect creatures. Everything else in the camp was giving it a wide berth.

They didn't even say a word as they waded into them.

Michael led the charge, his mace exploding into gold flame as he ran at the nearest of the horned men, smashing him across the face and killing him as he ran straight forward into the middle of the camp. Catching a hastily thrown spear against his shield without even looking at it before he carved through another of the horned men with Rend.

Pyotr sent his scarf outward, wrapping it around one of the Horned men and yanking his legs out from under him while also launching himself forward with it and landing on his back where he could bury his sword into the back of his neck. He kicked the wall of a makeshift log shelter, causing it to collapse on top of several more horned men, then slid beneath a cleaver strike and disemboweled his attacker as he continued forward with graceful momentum.

Ollie began casting, his voice seeming to speak two different spells into reality at once. A fireball launched from the tip of his staff into the thickest cluster of the horned men, while an arc of lightning shot from the tip of his finger, moving from enemy to enemy until four were dead. When a salvo of spears were thrown at him he summoned a portal in front of himself and sent them directly back.

Marcus calmly lined up one shot, fired, and moved, his hands automatically moving to reload his rifle. When he began shooting, his deeds all kicked in and everything seemed to begin moving in slow motion. He lined up another shot with The Reaper, and fired again, piercing another horned man's heart. Those nearest to the shots began to look for him, but he didn't stop moving, just lining up another shot, firing it, and continuing forward. When one finally did manage to reach him, he casually drew one of his pistols, aimed it at his screaming face, and blew his personality out the back of his head, not that Marcus figured he had much of one.

The massive scorpion creature lunged toward Pyotr as it barked orders for the Horned men to focus on Michael. It lashed out at him with all four of its arms.

Pyotr was too quick, dancing around each blow and whipping his sword out with quick strikes leaving shallow cuts that bled yellow ichor wherever they touched.

The creature ducked, sending forward a rapid strike with its tail.

Just like the other strikes Pyotr dodged, wrapping his scarf around the creature's tail. When it whipped it back he used the momentum to launch himself into the air. He spun dramatically, gripping his longsword with both hands as he plunged back downward. He landed on the creature's back, driving the sword down into it all the way through the hilt. It screeched and began flailing, but Pyotr leapt off, kicking off with his titled boots. He left his scarf wrapped around the hilt of his sword and with the momentum of his jump it carved its way free of the creature, creating a massive tear through its chitin out of which yellow ichor spilled.

With it dead Pyotr turned to the rift, reaching out his hand. He could feel it, just like Michael described. He reached within himself, trying to reach that little piece of divinity that all takers had within them. Unfortunately, his soul wouldn't stand still. It was moving, dancing, and he couldn't catch it, couldn't feel its shape.

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~You know where the steps lead. You lead them, you do not follow~

Pyotr listened to the words, the voice that spoke them was strong, and clear. He'd heard it several times before. The Lord of Diligence was on his side. He steadied himself, feeling the dance of his soul. He stopped trying to capture it, and instead he danced with it, wrapping his will around it as they moved together, feeling its shape pressed against him. He channeled the divinity of it around the angry red rift in front of him. His dance circled it, and drawing it closed more and more quickly. He clenched his fist, bowing to dodge a last-ditch spear throw, and the rift sealed.

With it closed they quickly mopped up the remaining rift monsters and then started moving toward the next nearest of them.

"Well done," said Michael, nodding to Pyotr.

Pyotr smiled. "It wasn't nearly as hard as Ollie made it seem."

"Try doing it with a cunt laughing in your ears while you fight a swarm of rats."

"Maybe next time," said Pyotr with a smile.

The next rift was on the top of a massive hill, and unlike the first one it was defended entirely by harpies. They had little chance to take them by surprise, so instead they relied on the ferocity of their attack to put the enemy on the back foot.

Michael created barriers to use as steps and ran up them quickly, leaping down at the largest cluster of them before they could fully take off. Golden flames spread across his sword, shield, and armor as he plummeted down, catching a number of them on fire as they attempted to take flight. He managed to land on more than three of them, his rapid descent crushing them with a crunching sound as they all made contact with the ground. Michael pushed himself up from the viscera and feathers and raised his shield to block rending talons that swarmed down on him.

Ollie waved his staff too and fro, creating bands of powerful wind that threw off their ability to fly, and caused several to plummet downward. Pyotr launched himself into their attacks, using his scarf to rapidly change direction and lobbing small bolts of fire from his empty hand.

Marcus stayed careful, aiming and firing at the targets as he calmly made his way closer to the rift. With Michael acting as a human meteor, not much of the attention was on him. Still, they must've detected his closing in, as several began to dive toward him. He slung his rifle back over his shoulder and drew his pistols. He fired both, dropping two separate harpies, and threw the heavy pistol at the third's head. It tried to dodge, but was surprised by the action and the pistol crushed her skull.

He reloaded the other pistol as he continued moving and raised his empty hand up, bringing the thrown pistol spinning back into his hand before it had even hit the ground. He fired two more shots at more diving harpies, then pistol whipped one, snapping its neck. Nothing ever expected a dragoon to be as strong as he was. He fired off two more shots as he began to focus his attention on the shimmering red surface of the portal at the top of the hill.

He focused within, remembering what Ollie and Michael had described to him. He felt the edges of the divine within him, with more clarity than he expected. Perhaps because the divine was the only thing he had to work with since magic didn't touch him. He saw the edges of his soul, and immediately pulled away from it.

It was her. It was shaped like her.

~It's okay. All this shows is that she's with you even here~

It was Trish's voice. Which meant it was Veras.

"Fuck you. She's dead. Was dead before I even got here."

~When she left nail marks on your back and lipstick on your cheek didn't you think that there was a piece of her with you? What shows her presence more than her marks on your soul?~

Marcus put down two more harpies as he reached again for that shape within him, feeling the edges of it, of her, remembering them as much as he was finding them. He channeled it, channeled her, and reached his attention toward the rift. They clutched the edges of it together, and the rift was closed.

A harpy's claws bounced off of a barrier Ollie created before it could reach Marcus, and he turned his attention back to the task at hand. He aimed his pistols, and fired them, returning to the fray.

After only a few moments, they had cleared all the creatures outside the rift. The air was full of feathers and reeked of blood.

Michael was looking at Marcus with concern, but he held up a hand.

"Please don't."

Michael nodded, and he and Marcus gave a quick goodbye to Pyotr and Ollie as they separated for the next two rifts.