Chapter 123: Cocoon of Fire

Charon stumbled forward as he grabbed at his chest, a sudden burst of energy hitting his core. It ran hot, like lava flowing through his veins, burning away parts of himself he was never even aware of. It was so painful he forgot all about the battle, including the loss of his first relic. His skeletons, now lacking any orders, instinctively rushed to his side, the Defenders protecting him with their interlocked tower shields while the others slashed their swords aggressively. Liam, not noticing the sudden lifelessness of the upgraded machine, rammed his axe head into its core, the glass still refusing to yield, but the force was strong enough to send the creation cascading back into the mud, sinking a solid foot on contact. Emerius, far more attentive, had spun to face the cocoon forming around Charon. The shadows gripping his body faded, revealing pink flesh beneath. The battlefield had gone quiet, but not in any way that promised safety. The fog drifted back into place, curling low to the ground and covering the swinging corpses of the machines. Their twisted bodies lay scattered in the mire, cores extinguished, limbs slowly sinking into the mud. Liam stood with his axe slung across his shoulder, his chest heaving, oil and blood dripping freely from his arms, and even a few points on his chest where the upgraded creation had struck him. His grin had dimmed but not vanished, his eyes still sharp as he scanned the haze. He was waiting expectantly for something else to happen. Seeing nothing, he barked out a laugh. "Well what gives? Did the little shit turn tail and run? That ain’t fun!" He stopped when he saw the look Emerius gave him, the blonde swordsman slowly approaching Charon’s summons. His tone was breathy, proof of his exhaustion, but also cautious. "Something weird happened. They suddenly stopped, and now Charon is-" His words were cut out as the nearest skeleton infantry charged him, its sword raised and its buckler held out to cover its chest. Emerius, not expecting the attack, paused for a fraction of a second before deflecting the strike and countering with one of his own, hooking his blade behind the creature’s neck and throwing it to the ground. It scrambled on all fours, the mire sucking it in. Unsure what else to do, he pulled away from Charon, moving to stand by Liam, who was watching everything with his mouth slightly ajar. "Did ya piss off Charon? What gives with the whole shield wall thing?" Emerius shook his head and sheathed one of his swords, freeing one of his hands. He swiped the mud off his robe, a faint look of disgust coloring his face all the while. "I do not know. I was engaged with one of our foes when they went limp, then heard the thundering of his skeleton’s footsteps. They assumed their current positions, Charon assumably hidden within." They glanced behind them at the only person who would have a clue about something as strange as this: Annie. Approaching her, Emerius stood over her shoulder and looked down on Darius. The man’s chest was rising and falling; the ointment that had been smeared all over his chest now crusted. She was leaning back on her ankles, wiping sweat off her forehead, as she noticed they had come. A wide smile crossed her face. "I’ll take it by you standing there that we won?" He nodded, while Liam took a more energetic approach. "Won? Ya could say that, or ya could say things went sideways! We were on the ropes when those shits suddenly stopped fightin’." Frowning, she stood and saw Charon’s skeletons still in the field, their glowing eyes scanning every direction for threats. "What’s up with them?" She looked over at Liam and Emerius and noticed a certain Animancer’s disappearance. "Where’s Charon?" — Inside the cocoon, everything was different. Charon could barely feel the mud beneath his boots or the weight of the Warden pressing against his shoulders and chest. All of that was drowned out by the inferno racing through his body. His veins felt like molten rivers, like his blood no longer his own. It wasn’t just heat; it was a searing pressure that made every heartbeat feel like a dam bursting, flooding new oceans of agony into the rest of him. He clenched his teeth until he tasted his own coppery blood. His fingers curled, nails digging into his palms as spasms rolled through his muscles. His arms jerked as if invisible chains pulled them taut, his legs buckling with each surge. The more that his body changed, the more pain he felt, centered on the core in the center of his torso. The sea of mana he had so often called upon to aid him in battle was now turning against him, punishing him for whatever transgressions he had wrought. The boats he had considered his summons were washed beneath the waves, crushed in the tsunami. ’I... need to... stay awake..! If... I faint... I could die!’ The thought flickered through the endless pain, but his lungs betrayed him. They failed in their duty to run oxygen, causing him to begin to gasp, the air growing thinner and thinner until he lost all sensation of breath entirely. It felt like fire was being poured directly down his throat, the taste of ash so real he fought to cough out a mouthful. His every nerve screamed as if it were their final cry for help. He hunched over on the ground, his hands and feet wiggling into the mire as he tried to find something to cool him down. His success was minimal, as every time he touched the damp mud, it was warmed to the temperature of his body. Charon thrashed in the confines of a shell formed by his summons, the bonds he had made through combat. He bit down a scream that would have shredded his throat while his eyes watered, his fractured consciousness only vaguely surprised that the liquid wasn’t evaporating instantly. It was too much for him to deal with, an impossible task for someone his age. Then everything turned worse. He felt the motes of light in his soul, the very summons protecting him, be expunged one by one. — Annie followed Emerius’ finger as he pointed to the cocoon, her curiosity peaking when the rank and file infantry of Charon’s army began to collapse. It was random, unexpected. Their heads simply fell from their shoulders as their undead bodies lost all strength to hold themselves upright. Their swords and shields fell beside them, the final reminder that they used to be soldiers. Then the archers fell, their bows lying useless to the side of fresh piles of bones. The Defenders came next, their struggle more apparent. They shuddered, their bodies rattling against their metal armor, before going limp. Their tower shields made a splash as they fell, soon followed by their wielders. Their collapse revealed Charon inside, his body lying face down in the mud. His final skeleton, the lieutenant loomed over him, his head bowed in respect before following the same fate as the others. Thinking it was over, the three traded a look, Liam breaking the silence. "What the hell is going on?" Unexpectedly, the answer came from Red, who had wordlessly watched everything occur. "Every rose grows new thorns." With that cryptic, unintelligible statement, she gracefully walked through the battlefield, stopping by Charon’s side. Kneeling down, she paused. His robe, the Warden of the Acheron, began to flake, the pieces of cloth tearing themselves apart before sinking into his skin as if they were being absorbed. Only then did she place one arm under his knees and the other behind his neck, before lifting him up. Her petite frame somehow managed to carry him with barely any effort, her red hair bobbing rhythmically as she carried him back to the others. "Follow, the seeds must be sown in the garden." She then turned and began to walk away, the others quickly jostling into action. Annie scooped up her backpack, while Liam threw Darius over his shoulder, careful not to shake him too much and interrupt his recovery. Emerius was the last to move, his chin lowered and eyes narrowed in suspicion. He seemed to consider everything around himself before coming to a decision. Releasing a tense sigh, he sheathed his second blade and followed after.