“Team two, team four. Prepare! We have identified your entry points. Get to your assigned spikes!”

  Ilmaril Thensten’s voice held all the command of his station and gold rank, with Kite and his team moving even before the order had been finished. Around them, the raging snowstorm was frequently lit up by the golden lightning of the fortresses defenses and individual powers of the teams that had already taken to the sky to intercept incoming defenders of their targets; a mix of flying ice constructs and essence-users. Here and there, the flurries of snow were momentarily parted in great swathes as one of Gauntlet’s gold rankers delivered some kind of massive wind slashes reaching hundreds of meters in length.

  “Christine, come with me and help herd our assigned group from the magic society. The rest of you, go to the spike and make whatever preparations you need,” Ryker said, ignoring the spectacular echoes of combat from outside the shields as he and Christine veered off towards the main citadel while the others continued, and Kite once again felt a bit of relief of not having to be the one to wrangle any contrarian nobles.

  “One cannot fault the adventure society in preparedness, at least,” he mused as they drew closer to their means of conveyance; one of several huge spike-like contraptions of enchanted metals held up by scaffolding inside the fortress walls. Each had multiple hatches and their tops were hollow to allow up to a dozen people to get inside and find a handhold. One could generously call it a vehicle, except that it had very little in the means of propulsion. But their team had been assured that the pull of the earth would take care of such matters.

  “Even though our engineers must be ever so gleeful for how many comforts and safety measures they can leave out when constructing things for silvers and above,” Mtanga noted sardonically. “I sure wouldn’t want to get anywhere near that if I was still a bronze-ranker.

  They had barely started to make their way into the ‘vehicle’ when Ryker, Christine and five silvers from the magic society caught up to them. The frustration flickering in the aura of the team leader was a clear indication of the tone of their previous conversation, and Ryker’s disgruntled state was clearly mirrored by Lady Ljublia.

  “I still can’t believe that we too are meant to venture down in those death traps,” the leader of their assigned research team complained, a sentiment that had apparently been repeated more than once. Kite could clearly see the routine polite response die on Ryker’s lips as something in his aura snapped just a little, replaced by something probably a bit closer to his true feelings on the matter.

  “Then, Lady Ljublia, you are free to make your own way down. I am sure that the pull of the earth will extend the same courtesy to you. You might even be able to lend some assistance to my colleagues out there while going down,” he said flatly, making it easy to read between the lines that Ryker was hoping that such assistance would be in the role of meat shields. “As for my team and I, we will choose the heavily shielded ‘death trap’ meant to specifically punch through the ice and into the compound below.”

  At Ryker’s words, the leader of their assigned research contingent became very, very still. After a moment of regarding him, as if trying to commit Ryker properly into memory for future vengeance, she eventually replied in a terse voice.

  “Then at least get on with getting your squad of meatheads in there. I don’t want to be confined in there with you for a moment more than I have to, and least of all in the middle.”

  “Very well,” Ryker replied, a smile playing on his lips as he turned to his team. “Team four, you heard her. Get inside. Our dear and brave researchers here have volunteered to take the outer positions, ready to be the first ones out the hatches upon entry. Remember to thank them properly for the courtesy of testing any inner defenses for us.”

  To her credit, Lady Ljublia only gave Ryker a vicious glare before realizing that there was nothing more to gain from this particular verbal spar. With a slight huff, she led her group inside, finding handholds around the central pillar inside the spike and activating the enchantments to lessen any impact upon those inside. Ryker treated himself to a slight smug grin before his normal stern mask was back in place, climbing in last and signalling Sir Ilmaril of their readiness.

  The insides were indeed about as cramped as Kite had imagined, and he envied Glint who was most content to remain in her bottle as he found a spot of his own near one of the ‘windows’ of the spike, which was to say that it was an opening covered by a magical, mostly translucent barrier rather than an actual metal covering.

  No one said anything for the awkward minute it took for the crew of the fortress to activate some more enchantments on the spike’s exterior. A soft humming echoed through the hull and Kite’s magical senses noted a distinct shift in the amount of mana flowing through the vehicle. A moment later, the spike gently floated up into the air around a meter as the surrounding scaffolding was removed.

  “H-how do they know where to drop us? And how are we supposed to get back?”

  It was another of the research team who broke the silence, his clear knot of worry earning him a venomous look from his team leader. Ryker, on the other hand, was surprisingly gentle in his answer, at least as far as his gruff demeanor could take such a sentiment.

  “The fortress is not just a piece of conjured stone. Viscount Melordrian has several powers related to it, and one is an impressive array of various sensors. From what I have been told, he’s gotten a good grasp of the internal layout of what we’re approaching; a network of tunnels beneath the ice. Apparently the whole lake is frozen solid, and our targets have made themselves a nice little nest down there. If nothing goes wrong, we’ll be dropping in very close to the ritual chamber that is our primary target.”

  “And… do you trust that the Viscount has gotten it right?” the man asked, emboldened by the comprehensive answer.

  “I’ve found that it’s usually best to trust the gold-rankers who are my superiors. In Gauntlet, you don’t rise that high without a good amount of skill and an even greater amount of proper judgment. And besides, second-guessing the person that is currently carrying your whole team out into a battle within a magical snowstorm is usually best done before entering the vehicle that said person is carrying,” Ryker finished with an amused smirk just as the whole spike started floating upwards with a slight jerk.

  Through his ‘window’, Kite could see Sir Ilmaril flying upwards carried aloft by wing-like formations of smaller blue crystals, with a similarly crystalline chain in each hand that dragged the pair of spikes after him through the air.

  “We’re about to pass through the barrier now,” Kite reported. “I believe that it is time for us to brace ourselves. May Fortune keep us.”

  The last of his words were almost entirely swallowed by the violent shaking that began the moment they passed through the defenses of the flying fortress, its spires still firing arc after arc of the golden lightning at unseen foes out in the snow storm. Even through the stabilizing enchantments, everything and everyone inside felt the forces assailing the spike, further worsened as Sir Ilmaril sped up towards their destination.

  While the trip through the chaotic skies was a short one, a minute at the most, the cramped confines and constant barrage of attacks, spells and lesser ice constructions made it feel like so much longer.

  At one point, one of the great wind slashes cleaved the storm mere meters from their little convoy at one point, the swathe of calm briefly revealing one of the gold ranked adventurers brandishing a jade-green great scimitar in a spectacular display of ranged swordplay against a figure clad in frozen armor wielding a greatsword of their own. Both were over fifty meters apart, yet their projected attacks clashed with a frequency far beyond the most intense exchanges Kite had ever found himself in. The moment soon passed, replaced by the snowstorm and all that might lurk among the swirling flurries of sleet.

  “We should soon be ar-” Ryker eventually began, but his words were almost immediately interrupted as their little world inside the spike suddenly turned into a nauseating lurch where it was all anyone could do just to hold onto their handholds. One of the researchers even lost his grip, forcing Ryker to send several strips of cloth to reel the man back in and towards his place.

  From his position, Kite had seen at least parts of what caused the sudden motion. One moment, Sir Ilmaril had kept a steady flight through the chaotic skies. In the next, the gold ranker had swiftly swung the chains and the spikes out and off to one side in a heaving arc. When the vehicle righted itself, Kite saw the gold-ranked elf locked in combat with some kind of construct; a great sphere of ice and steel which floated on its own and attacked with eight blades arms that sprung from its surface in all directions. As the construct was gold-ranked as well, he could just barely make out how Sir Ilmaril sped up. A scepter of light appeared in the man’s hand and a prismatic cone of energy beams shot from the weapon a moment later. The beams seemed to carry a distinct physical force as well as searing radiance, knocking the construct back and sending its closest cluster of limbs wide. Next came what Kite suspected was a chanted spell, and an intricate cage of hexagonal bars of light snapped into place around the intercepting foe, completely freezing it in some kind of stasis for a time.

  Having bought some time, Sir Ilmaril took a quick look around before turning to gaze at the two spikes, the vehicles now having righted themselves after the initial lurching motion. For a brief moment, Kite caught his gaze, and seeming content that someone in both vehicles could see him, the gold-ranker made a quick motion with one armored hand accompanied by a burst of aura. A signal Kite recognized.

  “He’s going to have to drop us now. Not the optimal position, but good enough,” he relayed, bracing himself even more against the handholds.

  “What do you mean ‘drop us’ now?” Lady Ljublia demanded, voice shrill. “I de-”

  Then some enchantments of the spike winked out as others engaged, the vehicle no longer kept aloft as an initial burst of force turned it to lock onto some previously designated point below before causing it to shoot off like an arrow. As their world lurched even more violently than before, all team four could hear was the violent shaking and rumbling from their passing, and Lady Ljublia’s words turning into one long screech.

  Ilmaril Thenston took a second to watch the drop spikes shoot off and out of sight, following the departing vehicles and the various levels of distress from their occupants with his spiritual senses for a while longer before the snowstorm obscured their auras as well even to his gold-ranked senses.

  Through the feedback of his essence powers, Ilmaril could feel the gold-ranked construct starting to muster the strength to free itself, but he would have a little longer. His power set, consisting of crystal, cage and scepter to form the prison confluence, lent itself well to keeping hostile creatures nicely contained. That was why he could easily make time for picking up his communication crystal that was buzzing in the loop around his neck while part of his mental processes made sure to cast one of his spells that would start to rapidly corrode the defenses of anyone caught within his magical grip.

  “Viscount,” Ilmaril said, acknowledging the man’s rank. Even though his noble station was of little consequence in and of itself during this mission, the man was a most valued member of the task group. And courtesy took one a long way to make sure he felt little inclinations to ever leave.

  “Thenston. I sensed an early deployment of the drop spikes. Problem?,” came the voice of Viscount Melordrian, the voice a bit garbled due to the magical interference of the snow storm.

  “A gold-ranked construct. I didn’t want it to chase the spikes, so I elected early deployment to take care of it. From what you told us, their golds are either out here defending or at the main ritual site, so even if they’ll end up a bit off the mark, the teams should manage.”

  “Good, because we will soon need you for a proper push. I just managed to get some proper readings on the ritual through all this interference. It’s close, Thenston. A lot closer than our estimates.”

  “Nether clans take them,” Ilmaril cursed, sending a few more damaging spells into his crystal cage still keeping the now visible struggling construct in check. “Where do you want me?”

  “Move your catch towards me and go assist Clarai. She’s doing fine in her little duel with their champion, but we don’t have the time to let her win with style. I’ll make sure that the construct is taken care of once it’s out. The fortress is better against those kinds of targets anyway.”

  “Understood. Moving out.”

  With a thought, Ilmaril’s crumbling crystal prison was sent careening toward the lumbering shape of the flying fortress off in the distance as he sped off through the snowstorm. Clarai would be most displeased with him for interrupting her fun, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “There are ever complications in our line of work, after all,” he inwardly mused before his mind wandered back to the teams below, hopefully having breached the hidden compound safe and sound. “Let’s just hope they can detect the urgency as well. Because our timetable just moved up by an uncomfortable amount.”

  “Kite! Christine! Go!”

  Ryker’s terse command had the pair shoot out of their respective hatches just as the barrier dropped, spells already on their lips as they became the vanguard while the rest of their group were untangling themselves from the loops upon loops of enchanted cloth that Ryker had been forced to deploy in order to keep the research team in their positions.

  “Glean the uncountable geodes! Fractured bones of the earth!”

  “Wall!”

  Neither of the emerging adventurers had gotten more than a glimpse of the enemies among who they had landed, still clattering debris and snow formed from innumerable ice fragments billowing out into the frozen chamber whose roof had just gotten a neat and round new hole where the drop spike had passed through. But where his physical senses failed, the spirit prevailed, and Kite could sense around a dozen silver-ranked auras of differing kinds now scattered around the room by the impact. Four of them were essence users and the rest were some kind of icy constructs, all physically reeling from the sudden and violent intrusion even though it would not last for more than a moment.

  Fortunately, a moment for Kite and Christine was more than enough to buy the rest of their teams a few additional ones to get out. Green, glowing crystals suddenly grew across the ice-wrought room, visible only as hazy green dots through the cloud of snowdust before the conjured stone wall followed, supported by the barriers of Leyline warding. Christine’s conjured crystal clusters detonated a moment later, glowing green shards ricocheting wildly as they stressed Kite’s barriers. He was in turn sending a constant stream of mana into the force walls when he felt the burden lessen slightly as Linger formed his unseen connection to them all, sharing his special ability which further increased mana regeneration.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Shattering my barriers!” Kite called a few tense seconds later as he felt the mounting pressure from their counterattacking foes start to damage the protective panes of force faster than he could keep them up. Immutable Echo appeared in his hands and he swung thrice, each swing followed by a glassy ‘pop’ and a low, thrumming sound as the barriers shattered into waves of resonating force. Incoming sharp icicles and similar projectiles disintegrated upon meeting the relatively slow-moving wall of danger while a few more intangible bolts and beams of magical energies were less hampered.

  But the combined one-two-punch of Christine’s and Kite’s offensive defenses had been enough for the rest of the adventurers to make their exit. As the resonating waves faded, Mtanga had already swung up to crouch along the slanted side of the drop spike, easily balancing at the steep angle as he leaned out to fire cluster upon cluster of animated arrows to strike down at their foes as great grasping hands or crushing palms. When the snowdust finally cleared, Ryker looked almost disappointed as the last surviving woman - some kind of acolyte, if the markings on her robes were to go by - attempted an escaped only to be snatched up by the blur of a huge and previously invisible hand, the claws of Linger’s lurker form closing to tear most of her neck and throat apart.

  “Efficient. Good entry. Report.” he instead called, such praise rare from the man while out in the field.

  “No more foes in the immediate vicinity. I will bar their passage should they decide to investigate,” Kite called, taking up position near one of the two tunnels leading out from where they had managed their breach. From the look of the room and the other half dozen constructs that seemed to lay crushed and scattered beneath where the drop spike had pierced deep into the floor, Kite suspected it to be some kind of barracks or storage for the things; the room’s now mostly empty state indicating that the zealots had deployed their minions in force.

  “Setting up a ritual to orient us. Mtanga, please come help me,” Christine called from where she had conjured a stone slab upon which to draw out the beginnings of a glowing set of magical sigils.

  “I will range out a bit in this direction. Will stay close though,” came Linger’s disembodied voice from the tunnel opposite the one which Kite was guarding.

  “Good. As soon as we know the direction, we can-”

  Ryker was interrupted by a louder call of orders, Lady Ljublia’s voice cutting through the room like a tray of dishes dropped in a busy restaurant; all present falling silent and looking to her.

  “You brutes! Get away from our objects of study! And just look at the state they’re in! Meatheads, all of you!”

  The woman even tried to shoo Ryker away from his position, the team leader standing over the broken remains of one of the ice constructs supporting the zealots. In ‘life’ it had been a floating sphere around half a meter in diameter walking around on a pair of long spindly legs that ended in points. What little Kite had seen of the things showed that they somehow easily kept their balance while conjuring a rapid stream of icicles to launch against any they deemed to be a foe.

  Ryker’s gaze as he met the woman’s eyes seemed to convey enough ‘You’re very far away from any kind of allies or witnesses and nobody who cared would hear you scream’ for Lady Ljublia to pause, and after a brief moment she contented herself with brushing past him instead, continuously throwing out orders to her team of researchers. While Kite claimed to be no expert of the magic society and its workings, he felt that there was a concerning amount of fumbling and doing things with no other purpose than to look busy. An exchanged glance with Mtanga and a roll of the other man’s eyes hinted at further explanation, and Kite went back to keep watch.

  “When we know the direction, we will move out. The rule of an unknown time frame is to assume that is a lot shorter than we would want,” Ryker finished, pretending that the magic society researchers had all gone up and disappeared.

  “Team leader. Movement from this direction, but not heading towards us. Probably another breach nearby or the main defenses,” came Linger’s voice a few seconds later. “Intercept or ignore?”

  Ryker didn’t immediately answer, instead looking towards Christine and Mtanga. Half a minute later, their ritual faded and Christine retrieved a round, polished rock from the middle of the dissolving magical diagram. A clear, glowing dot was visible along one edge, staying pointing in the same direction even as she turned. Seeing the tracking ritual always brought Kite way back to iron rank and his and Dragonfly’s first contract with Serene, where they had used a similar - if much more rudimentary - ritual to find the source of death affinity mana.

  “Southwest of here,” Christine stated, the glowing dot pointing decidedly away from where Linger had discovered the hostile movement.

  “Then our part of the mission takes precedence,” Ryker said, already moving. “Assisting the other teams comes later, should we succeed.” It was only when the team had gathered at the chosen tunnel that he stopped and turned, the action seeming almost painful as Ryker addressed Lady Ljublia.

  “We shall head out now. I would not recommend staying for too long before following. But…” he said, taking a steadying moment. “If trouble finds you, activate the defenses of the drop spike and call for us. We will try and assist you if the mission permits.”

  Kite’s respect for the man only grew with each pained word, as did his opinion of the Lady plummet even steeper as she merely waved them off, not even turning from where she stood lording over her team.

  A short nudge of aura from Linger did bring all of their attention back to the present and the task at hand, as it was the signal meaning that the way was currently clear and that the group should follow as soon as possible. And as one, they did, making their way deeper into the complex where the ritual was still in progress.

  Vitruvius Edmonton, Rimebringer of the Everfrost Order, prided himself that he did not wince when another deep rumble echoed throughout their hidden sanctum. As their spiritual leader and the mastermind of their current plan to further Winter’s influence, it was his duty to keep the morale up and the faith of his underlings unshakeable. Even if things, according the reports he was receiving, were falling apart.

  “-tell Abelinde and her knights to abandon the outer defenses and focus on buying time.”

  “Of course, blessed Rimebringer,” the acolyte turned messenger responded with fervor, before hesitantly asking; “Anything else?”

  The tone of the younger woman’s words indicated that she predicted that Abelinde wouldn’t be pleased with the news, such actions threatening to both bruise her pride and risk her and the knights she led to become some kind of sacrificial pawns. Vitruvius understood that as well, and while it pained him, he knew what he had to do.

  “Yes. Tell her that I will start to use the arctic core to fuel a last push of the ritual, and lead it myself. That should convince her that we all share the devotion for our cause, and that no sacrifice is too great of our success,” he said stoically.

  While the acolyte didn’t know the specifics of what his words meant, she still gave a grateful, deep bow to Vitruvius before retreating. Vitruvius, on the other hand, very much knew and he did not look forward to it even if he meant every word.

  “While the core would have been ideal to fuel the first push of the herald’s domain, it is worthless to us if there is no herald at all,” he thought, turning back to make preparations of his own. “Damnable heathen adventurers, meddling in the affairs of the gods’ chosen. I really thought that our preparations were enough.”

  But one could only use the means available, and even though Vitruvius surely didn’t look forward to the pain and very real danger he was about to take upon himself, the cause of Winter had to come first.

  “Bring out the arctic core and prepare my place in the ritual,” he commanded, one of the ritualists scurrying off to do his bidding. “The Fimbulwinter Herald must emerge soon. For Winter, and the Everfrost Order!”

  “Ward!”

  Even as the discs of Heaven-and-Void Warding appeared, Kite’s all-encompassing vision and silver-ranked perceptual processing speed gave a clear verdict; he was about to get hurt. Sharp icicles had appeared around him in a perfect hemisphere, courtesy of one of the Winter acolytes holding out with surprising fervor in a hastily fortified room. According to Christine and Mtanga’s tracking, the room beyond should contain their target ritual site. Unfortunately, this also meant that the defenders were both numerous and fervently motivated to not let the adventurers pass.

  What had begun as a scattered resistance along the frozen corridors was now a gathering of essence users hiding behind frozen barricades to throw spells and other attacks towards the invading adventurers while other frozen constructs mostly made of animated ice fought on the front lines. Or at least as much as such a line could form against the more mobile members of the Gauntlet team. At the beginning of their time in the frozen compound, the team had been worried of the fighting possibly leading to a collapse or similar instability, but so far each of the original walls had regenerated damage done to them in seconds, leading to them not needing to hold back as they fought outnumbered. But not outmatched, Kite’s current predicament aside.

  A moment after forming, the icicles around Kite struck inward like a set of omnidirectional fangs. And while he accepted the fact that he would not be able to emerge unscathed, both Leyline Warding and Ripple of Cancellation used not long before, Kite would not just take the assault lying down.

  The tattoos of his mantle glowing with channeled power - his armor similarly alight - Kite swung both his staff and five of Matra’s descendants outward to rip through a few of the incoming projectiles. This was further made possible by his aura power, the passive unsung hero of his path that had blunted so many magical edges over the years. Discarnate Erosion had begun eating into the magically shaped icicles the moment they formed, the silver-ranked addition to the power making it even more effective against the more solid types of magical manifestations.

  While the short moment was nowhere near enough for something as satisfying as the ice just falling apart moments after forming, it was enough to allow Kite’s sweeping strikes to cut and crush their fair share before he was forced to close his defenses as much as possible. Quickly kneeling, Kite raised the one spectral arm not involved in the counterattack which instead carried his actual shield, Targe of the Mirror Swarm, adding it to the barriers. A moment later, pain still lanced through his left leg and right bicep where the incoming icicles found the few holes in the defenses that remained and punched through his armor.

  Being silver rank, the injuries hampered him surprisingly little as Kite sprung back to his feet a moment after to track and follow up on the glowing pinpricks of disruptive force that his barriers and shield sent out in response. The missiles unerringly homed in on one of the robed acolyte in question who was just starting to duck back behind a pillar of ice, causing the runic man to dive for cover even more frantically only to come reeling backwards as this had him diving straight into the projected staff strike Kite had directed to come at him from the other side of the pillar.

  “Open!” Kite shouted to his companions as he moved on, conjuring another set of barriers to cover Mtanga’s flanks where he was strafing around the walls and ceiling of the room to get a better angle of fire even as he started to once again intercept each and every projectile he could strike from the air through his projected strikes.

  Apparently having sensed his intent, Glint took the opportunity to snag the now stumbling acolyte into her growing ball of constricting water which already held two more of his ilk. A ripping gesture and some mana spent later turned the water into fangs chomping inward, the vicious restraints transferring some of the life force stolen into healing for the familiar. Kite found himself healing rapidly as well from his earlier wounds, courtesy of the lurker regeneration Linger was currently sharing with them all.

  While the scout did not possess an abundance of special attacks or similarly potent means to inflict spectacular harm, the celestine used his powerful lurker form well; appearing from the magical camouflage to drag the occasional acolyte screaming out from behind their cover and throw them into the room and Ryker’s waiting tendrils of razor-sharp cloth while his regeneration let him shrug off the flurry of attack coming his way as he once more slipped back into concealment.

  And while the fighting was fierce, Kite and Christine together created enough of a defensive anchor for the adventurers to continue to keep up the pressure even outnumbered as they were. The more prolonged battle had led to the research party of the magic society catching up to them, and some of their members were even occasionally helpful as they threw spells of their own as far back into the zealot ranks as they could.

  “Remind me to have Peony make me a few more shields,” Kite noted to Glint as he stepped up next to her, intercepting raking blades of ice from a construct and cleaving the simple thing into pieces with Void-Sunders-Firmament. “I thought one was enough, yet the heavens saw fit to correct the errors in my assumptions.”

  “You are a silver-ranker, my bond. With your memory, this young mistress shouldn’t need to remind you of anything,” Glint shot back, manipulating her chakram to intercept a stray chunk of ice before redirecting her restraining magics to other targets as Mtanga started firing clusters of arrows into the acolytes she had bundled up. “If anything-”

  Glint’s words were interrupted not by any incoming attack, neither stray nor directed. In fact, all of the more magically sensitive essence-users of the room had a moment of pause as the ambient magic of the frozen complex suddenly felt agitated and raw, fluttering wildly like water disturbed by something in the distance making a massive splash. While harmless, the feeling was deeply uncomfortable and prickly, and as the ritual-made tracking stone in Christine’s hand burst with a loud snap a moment later, all of the adventurers of Gauntlet had their concerns confirmed.

  “Not again! Why do they always do this!?” Mtanga cried out in frustrated dismay as he intensified his attacks, holding nothing back to clear the defenders and force their way into the chambers beyond.

  Without speaking, Kite joined his efforts along with the rest of the team. Even as a relatively junior member of Gauntlet, the telltale signs of their targets attempting something drastic to finish whatever they were doing in time was something he was most familiar with. Desperate times requiring desperate measures, as the old saying went.

  “For Winter!”

  “Our victory is at hand!”

  “Just a bit longer! The herald comes!”

  From the smattering of emboldened war cries coming from the remaining defenders, the acolytes barring their way seemed to have very much the opposite reaction to the events. The ripple of conviction going through their auras spoke clearly enough even if the greater amount of mana most started channeling hadn’t already hinted at their most potent remaining spells and powers being prepared. And to make matters worse, Kite could also sense another group of reinforcing ice constructs incoming from one of the side passages.

  “We need a linebreaker. Kite?”

  Ryker’s words were terse and clipped, mid combat as they were. But Kite knew their meaning, and agreed with the plan. Whatever was going on with the rituals, the need to disrupt them or just simply delay had just gone from pressing to the utmost urgency. Sending someone as a vanguard for a delaying action had worked well in the past in situations such as this. Supremely risky for the individual launched ahead into the unknown, yes. But just letting whatever their targets were up to run its course were rarely a better option in the kind of situations into which Gauntlet was called.

  “At your signal, teacher,” Kite responded.

  “Go! The rest of you, pin them down!” Ryker called, and Kite set off at a sprint towards the enemy lines even as his allies cast their most disruptive measures into the remaining zealots. Crystals erupted with sonic booms among clusters of detonating arrows, each area amplified and chained by a power of Linger’s harmonic essence. Ryker’s sharpened cloth tendrils also joined the fray, but far from the amount which the team leader could usually muster. Most of it was gathering and twining together to Ryker’s right, with more and more continuously emerging from his dimensional storage to either join the growing mass or to form their own set of support scaffolding to better anchor their conjurer to the ground.

  As one final layer of fabric joined the mix, aglow with some of the more potent enchantments which Kite had seen the man deploy, Ryker lifted a fist. The densely twined pillar of enchanted cloth moved in tandem, Ryker’s magic causing the top end to sharpen to a point normally impossible for the material, the end result resembling a huge flexible spike. Or rather, Kite supposed upon seeing the helix of entwined fabric line up against the gate upon which he was currently closing in, a drill.

  With a terse grunt of effort, Ryker stepped forward and punched. The room shook like thunder as parts of the cloth construction unwound, and the tip shot forward and overtook Kite in an instant. It was only Kite’s silver-ranked perception that allowed him to see the rest of the creation similarly unfurl at the moment of impact before another sonic boom and flurry of snowdust washed over him and the defenders among who he currently found himself. He ignored the acolytes and their scattered attempts at stopping him, however, conjured panes of force beneath his feet taking him up towards where the result of Ryker’s efforts would be.

  “Fortune, please watch over me! Because I would very much like to avoid the indignity of running straight into a wall among my enemies,” Kite thought in silent prayer.

  A moment later, he felt an intense chill draw closer, but no impact came. Instead, a gap in the snowdust revealed the hint of the insides of thick icy gates, the edges of the drill-blasted hole slightly aglow as the structure had already started to rapidly repair itself.

  With the sounds of combat now dampened behind him and the light of several huge magical circles almost blindingly bright in front of him, Kite pushed through. Into the unknown, but definitely into danger.