Reece expected to hear the Marshal scream as his hand dropped to the ground. The pain from losing one’s limb was unimaginable and the shock from it would kill most men. So even if someone like Marius had fallen to the ground yelling in pain, it would have been absolutely normal.

  But it seemed the Marshal was far from human. Because the man didn't even stop to check the bleeding wound, he only twisted his body, shifting his weight to allow his other arm to land a punch that sent his assailant to the ground.

  The Marshal glanced at the stump that was supposed to be his hand, then he turned to Reece and Patelon with a forlorn expression. He sighed tiredly, shaking his head before gently picking up the Still blade.

  Al Sahim stood up and even he was confused. Blood dripped from the elderly man's arm at an absurd rate. If he wasn't attended to soon, he might lose too much blood.

  Reece scanned the environment for Shalliah, but the girl was still passed out. The Marshal however brought his blade towards the wound, then he pressed the flat side against his wound. Sizzling sound of burning flesh filled the air and the wound quickly cauterized.

  Throughout the ordeal, Marius only held a tired look. It wasn't like he couldn't feel the pain, Reece could sense his emotions and a flood of agony radiated from him. However, the pain was just like a normal feeling for him and he was too tired to express it. The feeling of being fed up and bored was what really dominated his well of emotions.

  Marius turned to Al Sahim who had been standing with a curious look. “You do not feel pain?” he asked.

  The elderly man chuckled. “This isn't the first time I have lost a limb.” he said simply. “Now, I was about to kill you a few heartbeats ago, I think I need to get back to that!”

  He shifted his body, taking another stance. He was standing straight, with his side facing his opponent and his sword pointed forward while his back was tilted a bit. It was another style of combat that most just called Cataclysm but officially it was known as the Ruin Stance.

  This style has absorbed many fighting styles from multiple cultures and has forged them into one style that is chaotic and mostly puts the user in harm's way as much as it is destructive to whoever is its victim.

  Instead of getting ready to fight, Al Sahim dropped his sword instead and raised both his hands. “I surrender,” he declared. “I am not too keen on bloodshed and combat.”

  Reece and Patelon, who were preparing to face Odran once more, were startled by the man’s sudden declaration.

  Marius glared at him. “I am guessing you are keen on cunning and manipulation.”

  Al Sahim smiled. “I admit that I am planning something rather important and fighting isn't the best way to go about it. You see my boy over there, he will not make it out of this bout alive and I intend to keep him alive.”

  “So why do you think we will agree to surrender then?” Patelon answered.

  “Oh, because you all will not make it out of this alive either if we fight. You see, bloodshed is a communicable disease, the more you participate in that act, the more you spread it,” he pointed behind them all. “And we are in front of a catalyst. The Harrowing Tree already disregards life enough. So if you all want to leave here alive, you will accept my surrender in exchange for the life of my boy.”

  “I have a counter-proposal!” Marius retorted.

  “See!” he said in a gleeful tone, his teeth spread wide. “This is why we are humans. Negotiation is what makes us the higher species.”

  “My offer is simple. We kill Odran, then we kill you.” Marius affirmed.

  “Come on now. That's just barbaric…” the man paused, his eyes shifting towards Jalin’s unconscious body.

  The body stirred and everyone turned in its direction. Reece frowned as a feeling of dread and wrongness washed over him. He felt the back of his neck crawl and grow cold, his heart began to pound mercilessly. However, a louder heartbeat interrupted his own — two flesh thumps that resonated throughout the entire woods. An illusory wind surged through the forest, clearing the mist in the area.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The heartbeat came again and it was obviously from Jalin's unconscious body. Soon enough the beats became rhythmic and constant. Almost like a normal heartbeat except it had started to pulse thrice instead of twice.

  Reece tried extending his emotional tendrils towards the body but a few meters away, the symphony unraveled into discord. The usual harmonic vibrations felt through the body of thaumaturge collapsed and Reece reeled back in pain.

  He held his head, the emotional tendrils snapping back towards him. “Ah, it seems you are out of time.” Al Sahim said. “Odran, get out of here, head to the Wandering Paths. I will meet you there.”

  Reece’s head still stung, but he could hear Odran’s receding footsteps right inside his head, everything seemed audible and clear to him even though he was in a spirit wrenching pain. He could hear everyone's breaths, heartbeats, even the subtlest motion they made was picked up by his auditory senses.

  He could hear the redhead too, Glory. She was hiding in the woods but she seemed to have been overwhelmed by the feeling of dread. Reece realized he was drowning in his own abilities.

  He clawed at his own face, trying to rip out the flesh from it. He didn't know why he did it, his thoughts were muffled and all he wanted was escape. He was on the verge of completely breaking when everything went silent.

  He opened his eyes weakly, realizing that Marius’ black blade had pierced his shoulder. He dropped to the ground panting. He didn't realize he’d been sweating.

  “Don't tap into the symphony. No matter what!” He groaned. “Something is wrong with it.”

  As if on cue. Jalin's eyes flung open. The young boy got up and almost immediately, Al Sahim dropped to his knees and bowed.

  Reece got up, staring at Jalin who was checking out himself as he was lost in his own body. After a while, he spoke. “This will take a long time to get used to.” His voice was deep, as if the bowels of the earth were grumbling. It was also ancient.

  “I know you will figure it out.” Al Sahim replied. “I have met my end of the bargain. That is the boy like you instructed.”

  “And who are the others? Resistance?” Jalin asked.

  “Oh. No. They are just bonuses. You can feast on them while you get yourself ready.”

  “Ah. Quite lovely.”

  “It is time for you to uphold your own end of the bargain,” Al Sahim said.

  Jalin walked towards him with a smirk on his face. “Now, why would I do that? Did you really believe I will answer your question without fail because I gave you my word?”

  “Oh, no. I will never believe one from the Abyss. We both know your being isn't compatible with this realm yet until your blood turns gold. If anything happens to me, the gateway keeping you here will collapse and if I don't get back to my master with the answer by tomorrow, he will burn your name!”

  Jalin nodded. “You are quite prepared. I love it. It is a sign of strength.” he smiled. He whispered something into the wind and Al Sahim seemed to understand him.

  “Thank you. I will take my leave now!” He turned around, winking at Reece and the others who were still reeling from confusion.

  Just as he turned around to leave, Reece called him back. “Al Sahim!”

  The man turned around with a smile. Reece had entered a cogitative state before he ‘d called the man. Although the Symphony was still treacherous, he managed to draw a bit of the energy in. Just enough for him to do what he wanted. He focused on one of the emotional tendrils that leaked from Al Sahim and then snapped it from him.

  The man looked at him for a while, confused as to why he wasn't speaking. “Farewell, Reece White.” Al Sahim disappeared into the woods.

  They were left alone now with whatever Jalin had become. “Now, humans. I will need a bountiful amount of energy for me to stay here. So who am I consuming first?” Jalin demanded.

  “Jalin?” Reece called.

  “Oh, that was the name of this body? Jalin? A lovely name. I don't go by that name. Just call me Visitor.” He said.

  “You are the visitor?” Marius spoke, curiosity lacing his words.

  “You speak as if you know me.” The visitor walked casually towards Marius and stretched his hand forward but the elderly man jumped backwards. “There is no need to resist. You will all die here sooner or later. So there is no need to resist.”

  “Who decided that?” Patelon asked.

  The Visitor inhaled. When he exhaled, space answered. A red fault tore through the field in a single breath. Trees split as if struck from within, their trunks bursting along glowing seams. The ground convulsed, heaving jagged stone to the surface, veins of red light pulsing through the fractures like exposed muscle.

  At the epicenter, an altar of fused red rock forced itself upward, whole and deliberate, as though the land had been waiting for instructions.

  Marius was seized first. Two pillars erupted beside him and clamped his arms in a crushing vice, lifting him clear of the ground. Patelon followed, bound the same way, stone locking him in place with merciless symmetry.

  Reece did not even get that dignity. Rings of rock snapped around his limbs and torso, dragging him flat, pinning him to the earth. He was a prisoner of the very ground he walked.

  None of them had been touched. All of it happened because the Visitor chose to breathe. The entire area had been terraformed into a field of reckless jagged rocks with veins of redness slithering through them.

  Reece soon felt the rings of rock around his neck tighten as the visitor walked across the field and soon enough he blacked out.

  When he came to it, he was bound to the altar. The visitor was standing above him, he could hear cries of agony in the background. They were the voices of his cohort.

  Even Shalliah was screaming. He budged against the rocks that held him in place but he couldn't do anything. “Oh, don't bother. It won't budge.” The thing carrying Jalin's face smiled at him.

  “I would have done this procedure while you were asleep but I wouldn't let such an opportunity to inflict pain and agony go to waste.” the visitor chuckled as if he just made a classic joke.

  He produced a large dagger and began whispering under his breath. Then he raised it, poised to drive the blade straight into Reece’s heart. A sudden flash of yellow streaked past Reece, and the visitor was violently thrown aside. When Reece looked up, the red-haired stranger stood above him. Glory.

  She reached for the stone vise — her eyes glowing brightly, but she froze as the visitor’s deep voice thundered through the area. He spoke a single word.

  “Gethsemane!” The word was drenched in deep-rooted hatred and primal rage.

  He turned his fury on the girl. Jagged rocks tore free from the ground and pierced into her body, driving through her thighs, her arms, her shoulders, pinning her in place. A cry of pain tore from her lips as she whimpered, trapped and bleeding.

  “Yes, scream! You are the source of a union that was never meant to be. I think I will be doing a great service to the world if I just killed you now!” He paused. “After making you suffer of course!”

  Reece managed to break off one of the stone vices and he pulled himself up. He pulled at the second one and to his surprise it came off easy. He sat up and to his surprise, the visitor wasn't looking at either of them anymore.

  He was staring at something that had wandered through the woods. Reece’s eyes bulged when his gaze fell on it. It was a stag, at least that was how it looked, except it stood at almost nine feet.

  Its fur seemed to fade into shadow, as if parts of it weren't fully anchored to the physical world. From its hooves and chest pours a thick, glowing blue mist, curling around it like breath in freezing air.

  Its antlers are massive, branching like twisted trees struck by lightning, and they glow with the same cold, spectral blue. They don’t look solid so much as carved out of flame and smoke, stretching upward and outward in jagged, unnatural patterns.

  Reece smiled as he uttered his first word of relief. “Balaam!”