Spirit of the Eagle (Part 2)

The three rangers led the way, following their footprints back along the path they had come. Trolls appeared around the group from time to time, but only dared watch from afar. The rangers suggested clearing out those scouts. Shane did not care. He had never intended to hide along the way. Taigo stood seven or eight meters tall and could not be concealed anyway; that would require the Illusion school. Besides, even in the worst-case scenario, he could still take the rangers and escape. Without spatial-sealing spells, no one could hope to restrain him.

As they neared the altar, the stench grew heavier and heavier, until green mist seemed to float through the air. In Shane's perception, demonic energy rose like a pillar of smoke, standing a hundred meters high above the altar before spreading toward the horizon, farther and farther away, until it finally fell like a fine rain.

The settlement was not large. Including civilians, its population was at most two thousand. Beneath the altar, the streets were arranged in a grid. Behind the low walls stood uneven rows of houses, most built from thatch and deadwood. The altar was the only stone structure.

Protected by demonic energy, the settlement still could not block the Eye of Truth's investigation. Combined with his mind, it was like an eagle soaring through the sky and looking down from above. There was no army behind the walls. They had gathered beneath the altar, while the civilians, watched over by numerous warriors, entered the altar one by one.

The smell of sorcery grew stronger, and the scent of blood drifted on the wind. His mind descended and flew to the altar entrance. Just as it was about to enter, it encountered a soft, thin membrane. It bounced back as though it had struck an airbag.

A spell that blocks detection?

Shane withdrew his mind and opened his eyes. A flash of arcane light flickered through his pupils.

"Are you not going to attack, sir?" the three rangers asked cautiously.

"Yes." Shane nodded. From all the signs, the trolls were conducting a blood sacrifice in a desperate attempt to struggle on. "I will use magic to break open the troll city and expose the altar. This battle belongs to spellcasters. You only need to protect yourselves." Shane paused. "This is not because I look down on you. The battle that follows will far exceed a ranger's understanding."

Mages possessed privileges, and strength lent weight to authority. The three Farstriders accepted the arrangement, remaining alert as they waited for Shane to cast his spell.

Distance: fifteen hundred. Wind speed: ten. Arcane energy gathered between his hands—energy conversion—spell formation—extreme compression—then propulsion. The Pyroblast arced through the air. With his mind assisting the direct-fire spell, its trajectory became far more practical.

The troll settlement was divided into countless coordinate grids in his mind. The Pyroblasts struck one grid after another, their primary targets being the warriors. The trolls' protective green light was like bubbles that could be popped with a touch. The spells pierced through without pausing, landing with incredible smoothness.

"The highest level among the troll spellcasters is around the third circle." Shane could judge the trolls' casting level easily from how readily their defenses broke. "Starting with the sixth shot, bombard along the edge of the altar. Eye of Truth, pay attention to trajectory corrections."

"Understood."

With the trolls' poor organization and discipline, casualties reaching twenty percent were nearly their limit. Even with priests overseeing them, they could not hold out for long against an enemy they could neither reach nor strike.

"They're running!" Under his mental perception, the civilians were the first to fall into chaos, driving the troll warriors into rout. They escaped through the wall on the other side. Shane followed up with several more Pyroblasts, clearing out the diehards.

The only enemies left were the priests inside the altar. After casting twenty Pyroblasts in succession, Shane drank a blue potion to restore his mana and regulate his mind. The three rangers remained silent, heads slightly lowered as they stood motionless beside Taigo's feet.

"Follow me."

"Yes, sir."

Once Shane had recovered enough, he mounted Taigo and advanced beneath the altar. Looking up, he saw a familiar figure in the area his gaze reached: Malakas. If it had not appeared by now, Shane would have found that strange.

There was no need for conversation. From their previous clash and actions, it was clear that neither was someone who could be swayed by words. The troll was stronger than when they had last met, sorcery rolling around it like clouds.

"Will it fight? No." Sensing that the troll's fighting spirit was weak, Shane immediately judged that it would flee. Sure enough, Malakas stared at Shane for a moment with a gaze that seemed almost tangible, then turned and retreated from the back of the altar.

It had no chance of winning in a fight. Against the three Farstriders and Shane, it might not even have a chance to escape once battle began. It would accumulate strength and wait for an opportunity. Only by staying alive could it have a future. That such a resilient figure had emerged among the trolls gave Shane a slight headache, but no more than that.

With the enemy leader gone, Shane stood motionless at the entrance and closed his eyes to sense the sorcerous power within the altar. It was a fusion of nature and blood sacrifice. Nature made one feel expansive, but the blood sacrifice made one suffocate. Though it was not particularly strong, this power possessed its own vitality. It drew blood, pulsing and beating on its own.

In an instant, Shane understood. It was twisted divinity. To sustain its existence, it absorbed everything from the sacrifices, including their lives and souls. It was instinct.

A strange fluctuation seemed to say, "Come quickly. There is power here to become a god."

Another divine trap.

"Sir." Seeing that Shane had not moved for a long time, the rangers asked for instructions.

"It's nothing." Shane raised a hand and cast Pyroblast, hurling it into the altar entrance. There were still more than a dozen priests inside, hoping to make a final stand through the blood sacrifice. But their lack of knowledge had led them into a dead end.

The fireball struck the inner defensive spell and exploded. The powerful blast wave of burning gas thundered through the passage like a frenzied dragon howling toward them. The entire altar trembled beneath the shockwave. As the earth shook, waves of dust sprayed out through the passage.

Shane cast Pyroblast after Pyroblast. The earth quaked and the mountains shook. The stone structure could not withstand such fierce bombardment, and with a thunderous crash, the top of the altar sank inward. More deadly still, the explosions expelled all the air inside. Ignorance always came at a price.

The lives inside the altar vanished one after another. Shane waited several minutes, until he knew there were no surviving lives within his perception. Then he took Taigo and teleported inside.

There were at least a hundred corpses inside the altar, neatly arranged across the ground, arm against arm and head against head. Blood flowed from their necks into blood channels, making a soft rushing sound like the mournful cries of ghosts.

No one who saw this scene would think the trolls innocent. Stepping over the ground paved with flesh and blood, Shane walked to the center of the altar. The Spirit of the Eagle no longer resembled an eagle at all. It looked like nothing more than an oversized dead chicken.

He touched its feathers. They were harder than steel. Within the reach of his perception, he heard a voice.

"I am still alive, arcanist. Save me. Pull the dagger from my neck."

"Are you the eagle's soul?" Shane asked.

"Yes, arcanist."

The fluctuations radiating from the eagle's soul felt natural and comforting, sharply contrasting with the evil of the blood sacrifice. Shane first formed a spell in his hand, then gripped the dagger. With a gentle pull, he removed it.

In an instant, a white, translucent eagle soul flew out of the corpse. It beat its wings and stretched its body, pure and natural.

"Thank you, arcanist."

Shane silently dispelled the spell in his hand. Dimensional Anchor locked down the altar's space.

"You..."

"I am an arcanist." Shane smiled.

"Yes, yes, I understand. You are like the arcanist I saw long ago. What do you want?"

"Only three questions. Where do you come from? What is divinity? How did the trolls contact your world?"

"Difficult questions to explain aloud." The eagle soul fell silent for a moment, then let out a pained cry. Its soul tore apart, and one of its wings broke off, condensing into a small point of light that it sent before Shane. Watching this, the pain originating from the soul made his teeth ache.

"The answers are all inside. I do not have much time left, arcanist. Cancel your spell, quickly."

A mental scan showed that the power of the blood sacrifice was about to corrode its soul. Shane touched the point of light with a finger. A faint but immensely penetrating force suddenly surged into his sea of consciousness, carrying his senses as though they were about to enter another world. Intense dizziness struck him, and even his soul felt stabbing pain—several times worse than being pierced by a thousand needles. His feet faltered, and he nearly fell from Taigo. Relying on willpower and resolve, Shane clenched his teeth and forced his body under control, steadying himself against Taigo.

"Divinity intrusion detected. Defense automatically activated. Protecting the user's soul is the highest priority."

Envelop it. Suppress it. Shane could barely hear what the Eye of Truth was saying. He bit down until he bled and, before it could take further action, mobilized his mind to crush it. Since becoming a spellcaster, he had never slacked off in his training. His relentless persistence had forged a resilience beyond that of ordinary people.

"Suppress. Suppress. Suppress." His sea of consciousness boiled, raising wall-like tidal waves that battered it again and again, forcing it into a corner. Then he formed a cage from his mind and trapped it inside. Streams of warm energy continuously replenished him.

The Eye of Truth helped him weave the cage while also absorbing the pure energy of the dead priests to replenish his mind.

Trapping it in a corner was not enough. The divinity was uncontrollable and could break free at any moment. Shane lashed it with his mind. "Obey. Obey. Obey." Countless mental whips struck down.

The divinity was immediately enraged. Frenzied waves crashed within the tiny cage, destroying, tearing, and slamming against it. Yet they could not raise a ripple. In this tug-of-war, the small fragment of divinity could not endure the expenditure. Shane gradually gained control of the situation.

At last, his sea of consciousness calmed. The divinity itself seemed utterly exhausted, lying obediently in the corner. It felt as though a long time had passed, but the Eye of Truth informed him that only three minutes had passed objectively.

"Divinity is terrifying." Shane let out a long breath, regaining his composure as he looked at the eagle. Its wing had grown back, but its body was a full size smaller.

"I am an arcanist. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, I understand." The eagle soul's fluctuations conveyed a bitter smile.

Shane was silent for a moment as well. The dragon eagle had to be punished for its offense. It could not resist divinity, and the consequences would certainly be unpleasant. "The power of the blood sacrifice is about to corrode your soul. I have no use for such a quantity, and I naturally will not let it corrupt you. But as punishment, you must carry my beacon back to your world and serve me for fifty years. Swear it upon your divinity."

"Fine, fine. I swear upon the divinity of my black wings—Anqiongnasi—that I will carry the beacon of the arcanist before me back to my world of origin and serve the arcanist before me for fifty years."

The eagle had no choice but to swear the oath. Shane formed a beacon with his mind and cast it onto the eagle's forehead, then canceled Dimensional Anchor. With the space no longer bound, the dragon eagle gave a sharp cry, shook ten feathers from its soul, and opened a bright white, distorted singularity. Then its soul shrank into a small ball and entered the singularity.

"What should we do with this animal spirit's corpse?"

With its soul gone, the natural power within it had lost its balance. The stench of the blood sacrifice spread out, and the corpse rapidly dissolved into foul liquid. Even its steel-like feathers were melting.

"Clack, clack."

"Taigo?"

At that moment, Taigo twisted its head, its metallic grinding sounds seeming like speech.

"You want it?"

"Clack, clack."

"Take it."

Shane spoke as he recorded the changes.

Three thousand words. Wiping sweat.

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