Mark of the Fool-Chapter 762: Sanctified Storm

Stones rattled against the Stalkers hand like an impending earthquake coming near.

Spiderweb cracks climbed the wall, spreading through the stone.

The young wizard frowned. Now, he whispered in a tongue of elemental earth.

Dozens of small earth elementals emerged, swarming toward the Stalker with stone limbs raised, poised to smash the small fae to paste.

The fae lifted his other hand, waving a single finger with the precision of a sword, slashing at the oncoming elementals. Those closestperhaps a stride or two awaywere cut down as though an unseen blade sliced through their stone forms, sending them hurtling back to the elemental plane of earth. The rest kept coming.

Stay out of this, you great lumps of dirt, the Stalker laughed, cracks still spreading through the wall until it was covered in them. I'm not here for you bags of dirt, so go home!

The hand touching the wall flexed.

The wall flexed with it.

Then ruptured.

A layer of rock sheared from the walls surface, exploding outward in a torrent of jagged, grey, rock chips and dust that didn't fall, but paused around the Stalker in mid-air. The cloud of debris settled around him, hovering like a grey mist.

Here we go, heres something else for you and your little friends, he grinned at Alex. Let's try this again, shall we?

With a flick of the hand, the debris swirled, whipping into a storm of shrapnel. Another flick sent it sweeping through the swarm of elementals like a cloak, surrounding them, shredding them like parchment, sending them home.

The jagged rock glowed with inner power: air elementals and those made of fire were not spared from the debris bite.

With a slight wiggle of a finger, he waved the sanctified soil from Uldars Rise into the storm of shrapnel.

Try this on, he said to Alex.

The storm drove toward the young wizard, followed by the Stalker atop his mooses back, laughing hysterically over the sound of stone grating on stone.

I see the game now, the First Apostle growled, lifting his blade. Holy Uldar, let none who touch this storm of sacred soil and hungry stone escape it by teleportation of any means!

There was an impact with no sound as the deitys will was enacted on the whirlwind of shrapnel and sanctified earth.

Oh shit! Alex cried, teleporting ahead of the storm.

Look, the Fool runs from us! a holy warrior cried. He means to lead us into more of his devilish traps!

Then pin him down! the First Apostle commanded. Forward, children of Uldar! He thinks he can tear us down with traps and tricks, but it is in this that he makes himself vulnerable! Use his hubris, kill him before he turns more craven and escapes! He pointed his sword toward their enemy. Know this, Fool of Thameland, if you do not finish this here and nowshould you escape from usthen, no more will we engage in this filthy chase! We will return to Thameland, find those that you love, and destroy them!

The Fool teleported through the chamber ahead, his face both panicked and angered as he tried desperately to dodge the hungry stone swarm threatening to engulf him and flay the flesh from his bones.

Cowards! You claim Im your enemy, so why threaten people I care about? Is your solution to doing what you claim your god wants always to kidnap and hurt people? Is that the only way you can get your filthy hands on me, by murdering people whove never done a single thing to you? he shouted.

It is the nature of sacrifice: even if distasteful actions must be taken, the will of the divine must be served, the First Apostle said. But that matters little: why am I wasting precious time explaining loyalty to a walking corpse? Kill him!

Once again, the church began advancing.

Alex affected an expression of surprise as he teleported away from the fae and divinity crafted storm. Holy-warriors released glowing arrowsenhanced by divine miraclesentwining stone and soil and turning the brew deadlier.

The First Apostle chanted spell upon spell, launching great gouts of fire and icy explosions after Alex, while the Stalker continued laughing gleefully, chasing the young wizard with the storm.

To all, the wizard appeared frustrated, fighting to get away.

They had no way of knowing that inside, he was as calm as a still pond.

Their arrows, spells, and even the faes strange powers were not the threat they once would have been: his struggle was all show, a performance for his hunters. A performance they were unknowingly a big part of.

That's right, the young wizard thought, watching the Stalker. Show us more of your tricks. The last thing I want is to get you all lined up for the killing blow, then you do something that Birger, Bjorgrund or I hadnt accounted for. I don't want any of you persistent bastards escaping what weve got planned for you, so lets see what you've got up your sleeves. But in the meanwhile, you need some more traps.

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He considered the church members morale.

They were still coming at him hard; if anything, they seemed more determined than before to catch him. Judging by that threat the First Apostle had just made against people close to himwhich Alex planned to make him pay forit didnt look like they wanted him to run.

They seemed more than willing to deal with his traps as long as it meant they'd have a better chance of killing him.

There would be no retreat from them yet, if at all.

No need to ease off of the traps, Birger, Alex thought. Not yet, at least. I doubt you could drag them from here, at this point.

###

As Izas and the holy warriors continued pursuing the young giant, the old priest began giving thought to retreating.

He was still able to protect his followers with his spells and divine power, but even thenthey were taking casualties. And those casualties were mounting.

From one room to another, the giant had fled, each chamber had held a trap more deadly than the last.

In one room, webbing made of steel wire had launched at terrible speeds, covering them like cocoons, slicing through armour and flesh of those unfortunate enough to be caught in them. Steel armour had offered protection to some, butwhere the wire had slipped between gapsholy warriors were dissected, with no hope of escaping.

Another room had opened portals on one side of it, gushing a torrent of frigid water with enough force, to break even armoured bodies.

In a third, a magical trap had dropped bars of force, caging his slower brothers and sisters like wild beasts, trapping them with flicking and dancing blades of magic that easily did their grim work.

And as Izas considered his options

Look out! a priest cried.

Spears launched from the walls of the chamber they were crouching in, trying to slip through; many bounced off the magical protection hed raised, though some got past, puncturing steel plate. Those who could, tried to heal themselvesbut they stumbled back falling to the ground, foam running under their helmets and down their chins, limbs twitching.

Poison! Izas cried. Uldar, please channel your pow

The prayer stopped.

Before he could bring his deitys power to bear, the injured warriors went still: the poison had worked devilishly quick.

More monsters!! one of the remaining warriors shouted.

Through a portal, a pack of snarling hellhounds with gnashing teeth, padded. Their breaths were pure fire when they sprang, landing on church members, mauling them.

Hold the line! Izas shouted. Hold the line!

His eyes took in Uldars followers with compassion as he chanted a spell to strike down these new monsters. Suddenly, the giant charged back into the room, roaring something in a barbaric tongue.

He swung his axe at the Third Apostle, looking to cut the holy man in two, but warriors nearby stopped the blow with their bodies, pushing the old man aside, taking the blow for him. When Izas scrambled to his feet, the giant was already gone, disappearing into the next room

The holy man watched as his followers slew the last of the hellhounds.

Things were looking bad.

Incredibly bad.

More than half of his holy warriors were dead, and of those who remained, most were clearly exhausted. The priests had called upon Uldars power over and over, risking rupturing their souls.

This is impossible, he whispered. We should've caught him!

When Izas had first laid eyes on the giant when theyd nearly killed the Fool, he showed a measure of skill butin the endhe hardly been any real threat. But now, not only was he wearing and wielding Uldars own equipment, his skill and speed were worrying.

Before, a simple volley of arrows had been enough to pin him down while holy-warriors darted in and out of his reach as they worked to bleed him dry. What had happened, how was he so fast that he was now more than a match for any but the most skilled in the hidden church? His long legs were allowing him to easily outdistance them as well.

If the giant would only stay and fight them head on, Izas was sure that his miracles and spells would be enough to destroy the overgrown menace, but he was not staying still.

He kept leading them along a path filled with death traps that were quickly cutting away their numbers, while wearing down their stamina.

At this rate, it was just a matter of time before there would be very few of them lefteven the Third Apostle himself had come close to being cut in two by that surprise attack. He looked down at the prostrate women and men who had given their lives to preserve his.

It disturbed him deeply.

Good young folk, followers of Uldar, sacrificing themselves so that hean old mancould keep living. How many more of these young lives would have to be spent to take back Uldars weapon and armour?

How many more sacrifices would they have to make?

How many holy servants would die herein this sanctum of their enemyand never touch their home soil again?

And in the end, would their sacrifices be in vain? They had made no progress in catching the giant, and at this rate, they would find a trap so deadly, that even he would not be able to protect them. Or they would be distracted enough so that Uldars very own axe would cut him in half.

But, to make matters worse

If this giant has become so deadly in so short a time, has the Fool also changed to our ruin? What deadly tricks do they still have waiting for us? he wondered.

That was when he made his decision.

They could not keep doing this: they would abandon pursuing the giant for now, and join up with the First Apostles force. If they did not, then they would lose everything.

Retreat! he shouted. We must rejoin the others! We have no choice but to unite with our brethren!

But Uldars equipment! a follower shouted, as an attacking swarm of elementals rose from the floor. We must take it back!

We must be alive to do that! Izas said, casting a spell that sent waves of force and light into the elementals, sending them back to where theyd come from. He is leading us around by our noses, making us spend ourselves against their infernal traps! Come! I should be able to trace the path we took to get here through the portals! This is whats best. We must retreat and head back the way we came to unite with the First Apostle. Then, we can deal with the giant and what is rightfully Uldars!

Yes, Third Apostle! the dwindling number of warriors shouted.

Inside, Izas gut twisted with guilt: the thought of those weapons being used against themeven for another heartbeatsickened him. But more and more, hed become convinced that coming to this place had been a terrible mistake.

Follow me! he called, leading them back through the portal.

The path back to the room with Uldars statue would be safer: the traps there would already be spent. From there, he could use a miracle to find his way to the First Apostle.

And then, perhaps we should use the miracle of recall and return home, he thought. This is not the right battlefieldno Izas, do not be cowardly. Have faith. Uldar will ensure that you will be where you are meant to be.

With that thought, he led his soldiers away.

Behind him, Bjorgrund watched. Looks like we're building up to the finale, he chuckled darkly.

The giant turned, taking another path.

One that would get him to the room with the goddess statues quicker than the church.

There he would wait.

For the final step in their plan.

For their enemies to be unmade.

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