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156. Stars in the Night
🕑 Added 2025-09-07 14:54:50 +0000 UTCCorrin stared at the crater in the sand ahead of him as he rolled another ball of aura between his fingers. He finished, and tossed it at the same spot he’d been throwing them at for the last thirty minutes, sending a small plume of sand into the air with a dull popping sound once more.
Three weeks. That was the prognosis from the healers, after they’d examined Eryndor for almost an hour. Three weeks before he would be able to move around again—longer to return to fighting shape.
‘We’ve done everything we can,’ the healer had said. ‘But the extent of these injuries… they’re beyond our ability to treat directly. He has eleven broken ribs, a fractured tibia, and bruising on the bones in both shoulders. That’s not to mention the internal bleeding from the stab wounds he seared shut, or the frostbite on his left hand. He probably won’t even be conscious for another couple days.’
“So what do we do then?” Corrin grumbled, tossing another one.
He glanced over at Luscien, who was sitting outside the sand pit on a slab of limestone he’d brought from the training shed. Surrounding him was a ring of manifested fire mana, burning a few inches above the stone in a circular pattern. Luscien’s eyes were closed, his hands pressed together in the same fox hand signs Corrin had seen him use before.
For the sixth time, the flames picked up and began to swirl, engulfing Luscien in a cyclone of fire. At first, the sudden inferno had made Corrin nervous, but he’d seen it several times by now, and so he just kept rolling his ball of aura as he looked over. Sure enough, the flames sputtered out an instant later, and Luscien muttered a curse as whatever he was attempting failed yet again.
“What are you doing?” Corrin finally asked, trying to break up the silence.
Luscien inspected the rings of chalk that marked where the fire had just been. He let out a sigh. “My family’s technique, fox transformation, has nine levels of mastery, each indicated by another tail. At each stage, I can draw more deeply from my bond with Kita, and I get more power to go along with it.”
Corrin glanced sidelong at the two-tailed vulvix happily rolling in the dirt nearby. “And you can do what, three?”
“At my current level,” Luscien nodded. “My father can use six tails, the same as my grandfather, and his grandfather too.”
“How do you even know about the other tails then?”
“Our family records. Apparently my great grandfather reached seven—but I don’t think anyone has achieved all nine since the fall of Xe’zhul’s empire.”
“What happens if you get all nine?” Corrin leaned in.
A smile ghosted across Luscien’s lips. “That’s a family secret.”
“Is that cool or boring? I can’t decide,” Corrin mused. “So what’s the deal then? Is this supposed to help you get to the fourth tail or something?”
“This is a ritual to reach the next stage of mastery, yes.” Luscien pushed up his glasses. “I must complete it to unlock the fourth tail.”
“And how long have you been at three?”
“Oh what has it been, seven years now?”
“Seven? You mean since you were—”
“Since I was twelve,” Luscien’s gaze was calm. But after a moment, he let out a sigh and fell backwards onto his back. “Earlier than my father, or my grandfather, sure. The pride of House Genevisc, that’s me. But seven years have passed since then, and what for it?”
Corrin sat down across from him. “You don’t sound too disappointed.”
“Being a spirit knight is a job,” Luscien said, pinching the frames of his glasses between his fingers and lifting them up. “That’s all. No matter what anybody expects, I’m fine with being an ordinary third class spirit knight for the rest of my life.” He paused, stilling for a long moment before letting out a single dry laugh. “Then I end up here, and I feel foolish. But petty resolve won’t let me attain the fourth tail. I suppose that’s frustrating. Do you understand what I mean?”
Corrin shook his head. “Not at all. Why would I want to put effort into something just to be average? If I’m going to do something, I want to be the best there is.”
Luscien hummed, like he’d expected as much. “You’re special, just as I thought. How annoying. Well, it can’t be helped. Are you still doing that aura-shaping exercise?”
“Want me to ignore that huh?” Corrin formed a ball of ash between his fingers. “It’s actually not as hard as I thought. But this isn’t very helpful. I need something I can actually use.” He lobbed it into the dirt, mulching another section of the lawn.
“Well, I’m the last person that should be giving you advice. But it’s just an introductory exercise. Basic techniques aren’t hard. If you want to move on, do something else.”
“You’re helpful aren’t you?” Corrin crossed his arms. “In the end it doesn’t matter, we’re just wasting our time. Techniques aren’t anything. The question is, what are we going to do, Luscien?”
“What can we do?” The boy, only a year Corrin’s elder, let out a dry laugh.
“I don’t know,” Corrin threw his hands up. “Fight back? Figure out how to stop them from poisoning the tree? Something.”
Luscien slowly sat up, draping an arm over one knee. “We don’t know where they are, we don’t know the strength of our enemy—except that they have at least one person far beyond our own level—and the last time we acted against them, all three of us almost died, and that was with Eryndor. There’s a difference between acting, and committing suicide.”
“Yes, there is.” Corrin got to his feet, looking down at the fire channeler. “And there’s a difference between biding our time, and giving up. Which are you doing, Luscien?”
“I’m doing the only thing we can do Corrin.”
“The same thing you’ve been doing for seven years now? If your resolve is so ‘petty’, then what good will it do us? What we need is a plan.”
Luscien let out a growl, and Kita stopped playing in the dirt, looking over, his ears perking up. “A plan? No plan will let a mouse fell a lion, Corrin. Do you not get it? Eryndor got hurt because he had to protect us.”
Corrin clenched his fists. “You think I don’t know that?”
“No, I’m not sure you do!” Luscien started to stand, but stopped himself. “If we hadn’t been up there, Eryndor could have avoided that blast. Then we wouldn’t be in this mess at all. We were nothing up there. Worse actually, we were a liability!”
“That’s why I’m saying we can’t just sit here and do nothing!” Corrin yelled, frustration boiling over. “If we do that, then those cult bastards get what they want, and it’s our fault. I’m not going to just let things end like that!”
Luscien glared back up at him. “Why do you think I’m trying so hard to reach the fourth tail? We’re not strong enough. I’m not strong enough, and you couldn’t even match me. Until we know more, or unless we suddenly get stronger, we wait. Now, let me get back to it.” He settled back into his position, fixing the broken lines in the chalk and pressing his hands together. The flames roared up once more, and Corrin had to jump back as they singed his pants.
“Bastard,” he mumbled as he stalked away. “Get stronger huh? Fine. Then I’ll take your advice.”
It was time to move past the basics. Corrin drew his blade, the black metal gleaming in the torchlight. He was angry, and not just at Luscien. The fact was, in the deciding moment, Eryndor had decided he was better off fighting without them—they would only hold him back.
Frustration. Ash mana jumped up the blade, responding to his emotions. It wanted to lash out, and he wanted to hit something. But that wasn’t what he needed. He couldn’t just hit things harder until they went away—at least not yet.
I need something simple, but versatile. What am I lacking right now? The battle with the cultist was fresh in his mind—along with the effectiveness of his technique. Could I do something like that?
Testingly, he tried to shove mana from the tip of the blade. A sad stream of power trickled out a few inches from the top, dissipating quickly into the surrounding air.
“Roll the ball Corrin,” he whispered to himself. He drew the blade back, spinning a thin line of mana around the edge, less than he’d used before, but more focused. The air began to warp around the sword, twisting under the density of aura just before manifestation. “And then, throw it.”
He swung, at the same time urging the mana out, commanding it to hold together. It shot forwards, crackling with power, whirling towards—
It made it about a foot out and then collapsed, imploding with a familiar dull pop.
Corrin stared at the distance the technique had travelled, and a bead of sweat rolled down his face. It was a weak little thing, a fledgling technique not even able to walk. But a baby dragon was a dragon nonetheless.
He laughed once, letting out a sharp breath. The anger in his chest hardened into resolve as Eryndor’s words rang in his head.
‘Naming your techniques gives them significance and intention, while also reinforcing their existence in your mind. This is a mental shortcut that allows you to focus your will, aura, and attention more effectively.’
“A ranged slash of mana that destroys everything in its path…” Corrin pictured a devastating swing of his blade cutting a gash in the world itself, rending the earth for a mile ahead of him. “I think I’ll call you—”
“Corrin!” Kei’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see her running towards him from the edge of the sand pit. “Eia’s here!”
His eyes went wide. “What’s she—”
“Wyn’s fine! He’s at the adventurer’s guild with another group of survivors.”
His hand tightened around the hilt, but for the first time since he’d heard Wyn was missing, a real smile stretched across his face. “Of course, I never doubted him for a second. Well, is she just here to give us the news? Or is there something else?”
Luscien was walking over to see what was going on, and judging from his face, he hadn’t been successful this time either. “Eia? Who is that? Did she run here from the guild? And how does she know Wyn?”
Corrin’s eyes met Kei’s as they realized their mistake. Kei winced, and Corrin slapped his forehead.
Sorry Wyn. These are extreme circumstances though, right?
Kei’s head tilted up into the empty air a moment later, and she nodded.
“She says don’t worry about it right now. And no, that’s not all. Wyn has information on the cult. She knows where they’re set up, and apparently they’ve got over a dozen adventurers ready to assist in a counterattack, but wanted to check on us first.”
Corrin’s grin grew even wider. “A counterattack?” He glanced sidelong at Luscien, who was running his hands through his hair, clearly caught off guard, then he looked back at Kei. His heart was starting to pump faster. He’d had more than enough of standing around waiting. “Wyn really does know how to speak my language. Let’s take this inside. I want to hear everything he’s got to say.”
The strategy meeting to retake Liresil began.
***
They sat around the table in the inner parlor of the Kaelburn manor, separate from the rooms that were being used to house people and treat the wounded. The room was dim despite its lightstone fixtures—which according to Venish was due to mana draw from the defensive wards. It was bright enough though, and Corrin looked around the walls, which held paintings and trinkets, a show of wealth and comfort to match the soft carpet beneath his feet.
“Tell Wyn we’re all here,” Kei said to Eia as the last of them walked in. Corrin, Luscien, Kei, and Venish were all present, joined by a few other servants and lastly, a representative from each of the two adventuring parties in the estate.
Luscien now knew of Eia as a sentient spirit capable of communication, there’d been no getting around that. But it was Corrin who’d come up with the simplest of lies to cover the extent of her existence to Venish and the adventurers. It was a simple lie really.
They’d just said that Kei had a blessing of spirit speaking. And Wyn of course could communicate with his bonded spirit. Luscien suggested it would raise eyebrows, but Corrin didn’t mind that so long as they obfuscated the truth enough. For once, Eia had actually expressed appreciation towards him—at least according to Kei.
“Who are speaking with on his side?” Luscien asked as they settled in. “Are we sure they can be trusted?”
Kei’s head tilted, listening to a response, then she relayed the answer. “It’s him and an Eldress Cennet, the guildmistress of Liresil’s adventurer’s guild.”
The two adventures in the room noticeably perked up when they heard the name.
“The guildmistress is more than capable,” one of them vouchsafed. “She was gold-ranked in her own day, a real veteran. I’d trust her with my own life.”
“I wouldn’t,” the other chuckled. “I hear she’s pretty ruthless. I saw her yelling at some poor team the other day over a simple mistake in their delve report.”
The first one scoffed. “She’s like that with all the rookies. It’s because she takes her job so seriously that our guild runs as well as it does.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that.”
“Gentlemen,” Luscien interrupted. “Can we trust her or not?”
But Kei interrupted him too. “Wyn says we’re trusting her, like it or not. She already knows most of what he’s going to tell us anyways.”
Luscien clicked his tongue, but gestured for her to go on.
Kei nodded and tilted her head again. “I did, yeah, an acolyte of Delusion.”
“What?” Corrin raised an eyebrow, confused.
“Ah, sorry I forgot to translate before answering. He asked if anyone had run into anyone claiming to be an ‘Acolyte’.”
“Can you tell her to just make herself visible so we don’t have to bother with this crap?” Corrin complained.
Kei grinned sheepishly. “She says you can—nope, not going to repeat that.”
Corrin barked out a mocking laugh. “Yeah? Well you can tell her to—” He looked around at the grim faces surrounding them and sighed. “Nevermind, I’ll retract it. Something about acolytes? Didn’t you mention you ran into one?”
“We did,” Kei said. “Apparently Wyn had a similar experience with an ‘Acolyte of Sloth’, who he thinks is responsible for the monsters popping up around the city.”
“An acolyte of Sloth?” Luscien drummed his fingers on the darkened wood of the table. “And you ran into an acolyte of Delusion? Those are two failings. Then there could be three more?”
Corrin raised a hand. “Wait, failings? Why does that sound familiar?”
“You’ve heard of the five virtues right?” Kei asked.
“Uh, yeah… I vaguely remember them.”
“Apparently Wyn wants me to ask you if you paid to anything in school.”
Corrin glanced to an empty spot in the air. “You’re doing a bit too good of a job keeping Wyn in the loop, Eia. And to answer, remind him of the time I did better than him on that geography test.”
“We’re getting off track.”
“Yes, we are.” Kei said. “Each of the kings represented a virtue Corrin, for five in total.”
Corrin held up fingers as he counted. “Let’s see, it was Aspiration, Kinship… Cassius was Wonder…”
“Truth, for Alera, and Diligence, for Vanyr.” Luscien interjected once it became clear Corrin couldn’t remember the last two.
“Right right. So how is that relevant?”
“Each of the virtues is contrasted by a failing—Acedia, Isolation, Possession, Delusion, and Sloth.”
It finally clicked for Corrin, and the few lessons from Fenfreth back in the day flickered in his mind. He liked the kings for their stories, but it wasn’t as though they’d really studied them in the west. Wyn was too studious.
“So we’re thinking there might be three more of these ‘Acolytes’ then? And they’re the head honchos?”
“We’re all caught up,” Luscien nodded.
Corrin pounded a fist into his palm. “So let’s track them down, stab ‘em a few times, and be done with it. Sounds easy enough.”
“And why would you think we’d even be able to do such a thing? Are you forgetting that they were able to defeat Eryndor? Are you forgetting the three-armed man?”
Kei’s face fell. “Oh… Wyn doesn’t know about Eryndor does he?”
The room got quiet, and Corrin felt like he could almost see Wyn’s pained expression from across the city.
“Yes, he’s alive… but he’s badly injured, and unconscious. The healers say he won’t be able to help.” Kei relayed the message.
Corrin exchanged a glance with Luscien. “He doesn’t know about the camp either.”
“Yes, it seems we’re not quite caught up yet.”
Kei frowned. “Who is this three-armed man?”
Corrin’s fingers clenched the edge of the table, and the real conversation finally began.
***
Wyn let a heavy breath into his palm, staring into the flickering hearth in Guildmistress Cennet’s office. Across the table, the guildmistress was similarly solemn, but at last, all of the cards were on the table. He’d told them of his encounter with Sloth, and they’d told him about Delusion, as well as the disaster in the Ecclesterion.
Of all the things he’d expected to hear, Wyn hadn’t even considered that Eryndor would be the first of them to fall. He had seemed all but invincible, was it really possible for him to lose? Tor—only a third class spirit knight, and from what Wy understood, a good deal weaker, hadn’t taken a real injury even in the battle with the colossus. He was thankful it wasn’t fatal, but it was a grievous blow nonetheless. He’d been banking hard on the knight’s strength in the coming battles.
And there would be fighting. As soon as he’d gotten the news from Eia, Wyn had known it wouldn’t be as easy as tracking down the Acolyte of Sloth and taking him out. The cult had thoroughly infiltrated the city, completely subverting the Ecclesia, and taking control of their assets.
Including two entrances to the gold-ranked dungeon beneath their feet.
Lystenthos hadn’t been wandering around the city randomly. Of the four major entrances to The Underbough, the two controlled by the Ecclesia were to the north and west of the tree. And according to Eia, they were currently gushing monsters out from their maws, flooding the streets at an even faster rate than the Acolyte.
“He walked clockwise around the city from the east,” Wyn muttered into his hands. “So they’d come from every direction, preventing a front from building. Why not just take the other two entrances though?”
Eldress Cennet grunted. “We have provisions. They’re well-guarded to begin with, and protocol would be to collapse the entrance in a case like this. The build-up is bad, but a controlled, predictable flood is something we can handle. I have a speaking stone connected to each of them. They’re under attack as well, but it seems to be a token effort, and they haven’t felt it necessary to collapse the entrance.”
“And if the entrance is collapsed, it’s useless to the cult until it clears,” Wyn nodded. Dungeon entrances could usually be blocked or collapsed in the case of emergencies, in places where the reinforced walls of the dungeon met with mundane stone. “So our first priority then, should be to raid the two remaining entrances, and collapse them. Until we do that, any monsters we kill will just get replaced.”
“I can’t imagine that it will be as easy as you make it sound,” Eldress Cennet raised an eyebrow. “They’ll have their own defenses no doubt. Not to mention, we’re still under siege here.”
Wyn worked his jaw, looking into the face of the issue. “I’d be willing to bet that’s exactly why. Damn it I’d bet that’s the whole point of this siege. It’s all just one big distraction. But it’s too big to ignore.”
“Don’t let me take the wind from your sails. You’re right in that we have no choice but to stem the tide. Regardless of how difficult it may be, when your only option is to fight, don’t worry about whether you can win. You fight, and make it work after.”
Wyn looked at the older woman sitting across from him. Even under such dire circumstances, she was shockingly calm. The most reaction he’d seen from her was when they’d found out Eryndor was critically injured, but even then, he didn’t think it had been more than mild disappointment. He attributed it to a gap in their experience, or maybe it was just because she hadn’t been expecting such help in the first place.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “We raid the entrances, collapse them, and go from there.”
She set her eyes on his, and as he stared back, he realized he’d been mistaken. Her eyes were gray, like thunderclouds just before a storm, and his skin prickled, waiting for lightning to strike.
“So the question is, what do they have waiting for us?”
***
Kei took a sip of water before continuing.
“Eia was able to scout both the western and northern dungeon entrances before coming here, but she can’t be in both places at once. It’s possible this information could be out-of-date by the time we launch any sort of attack, but she says she’ll head back once we’re done communicating to check again.
Sloth stopped upon reaching the western entrance, joining a small contingent of others. There were about a dozen of them, a mix of mages and warriors. Only one of them seemed particularly strong though—a young man wearing different robes than the rest of them—he got into an argument with the acolyte about something, though she didn’t catch it.”
“And if what you told us earlier is to be believed, this Sloth can bend monsters to his will, yes?” Luscien asked.
After a brief moment, Kei nodded. “Wyn believes so, but he isn’t sure as to what extent, or how powerful the man himself is.”
Corrin felt something heavy sink into his stomach, putting him on edge. The thought of someone controlling monsters was bringing back bad memories.
“Hang on though,” he broke in. “Even if we collapse the entrances, we’ll still have to deal with the monsters breaking up from below won’t we?”
Luscien adjusted his glasses, the cracks on the left lens much like the ground of the city itself. “To an extent, yes. But it seems to me that the cult mages, and Thestor himself, are the ones causing that phenomenon. If we block the entrances and kill them, it should slow to a much more manageable level.”
“I guess that makes sense. What about the north then?” He turned back to Kei.
“Apparently the northern entrance is far more defended,” Kei said grimly. “There are scores of them stationed there, along with…” she grimaced.
“What is it?”
“A woman with long black hair, dressed in similar robes to Sloth—purple with a crimson hood.” Kei shook her head. “If I had to guess? That’s Callithea, the acolyte of Delusion. She’s the one that attacked the plaza earlier.”
“The one that can control her hair,” Luscien nodded.
“Maybe other threads too. I’m really not sure.”
One of the adventurers spoke up. “We’ll have to take the west then. We can’t leave the estate undefended, and even if we all went, there’s what, ten of us?”
“Eleven,” Luscien said, “But your observation is a good one.”
Kei cleared her throat. “Lady Cennet wishes to know who amongst you have engaged the cult in combat, as well as any appraisal of their strength and your own.”
Corrin raised his hand, joined by Luscien and one of the adventurers, a man in his thirties with blonde hair tied back in a bun. They let him speak first.
“Let the guildmistress know that the uh…” he coughed into his fist, “kegslayers, encountered and eliminated eight cultists during the initial siege. If I had to place them, I would place the average at low silver rank.”
Corrin snorted, earning a few looks. He flipped his hands up. “Oh come on.”
Luscien rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The one we fought was stronger then. That makes sense if he was part of any sort of operation to kill Eryndor. There were maybe twenty or thirty of them, likely all around gold rank in strength, though I’m not an expert on adventurer rankings. No estimation on how many remain. What ranks are each of your parties?”
The man with the bun held up a hand. “Gold rank.”
The other representative, a wiry mage with red hair, looked abashed. “Bough’s Arrows, we’re only silver rank I’m afraid.”
“That’s fine. You’ll stay here and guard the estate. The rest of us will raid the western entrance.” He turned to Kei. “We’ll need to make sure our attacks are synchronized. If they have forewarning, we’re doomed to fail.”
The mage from Bough’s Arrows cleared his throat. “If the cult realizes we’re moving to strike, won’t they just throw everything at this place?”
Luscien nodded. “The fact that we’re not under siege like the guild is a blessing. I’m not sure why, but I won’t complain either. If we had to push our way out, our chances would crumble. That’s why we’ll have to be decisive, and strike them before they can organize a response. Miss Eia, did you happen to see a three-armed man at either of the camps? He is the greatest of my concerns.”
“She says no.” Kei shook her head.
“I’m not sure whether that is a blessing or an ill omen. Though it only further confirms my suspicion that this is merely a distraction from their real goals. In any case, it means we can continue as planned.”
And despite it all, we still don’t know where the sanctum is. Corrin thought. It’s all a distraction, and it’s working. We have to win quickly, but if we rush in again, we’ll lose.
Kei tilted her head once more, listening. After a moment, she nodded. “Wyn and the guildmistress agree. They’ll prepare to push out of the guild and strike the north. Eia is going to scout again to make sure they’re not moving, and to more thoroughly investigate the defenses. But she’ll be back once she does.”
“Good,” Luscien murmured, pressing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Then all that remains is to prepare. Rest if you can, and sharpen your blades. Tomorrow, before first light, the counterattack begins.”
******
******
[A/N:
(Some idle ramblings)
I've been watching movie clips lately, and it just amazes me how good dialogue can get. Like, I'm watching clips from Moneyball (which is an incredible movie by the way, even if you're not a baseball fan. One of my favorite movies of all time honestly), and the dialogue is just popping.
I'm just watching two guys talk about trading a player to another team and I am absolutely gripped. Every line has a purpose and is just so entertaining. I think that level of tightness is really hard to replicate in serialized writing, because you only get there with edits, cuts, and most importantly—decades more writing experience and skill than I have lol. But I hope to get to that level someday.
I need to read more non-fantasy stuff I think. It's weird, because I'll watch basically any genre of anything. Some of my favorite anime are slice of life, romance, or otherwise, and many of my favorite movies aren't fantasy (now that I'm thinking about it, though a lot of them are baseball movies haha). But when it comes to books, I stick to fantasy too much I think. But it's like a drug, I can't give up my fantasy reading. So I think the solution is less brainrot, more literary fiction.
Yeah, I've just been thinking I really need to start digging into the craft lately. Idk, just idle thoughts really.
Anyways, all that to say, I hope this chapter with a lot of dialogue and characters just talking didn't come out too awkwardly, and I hope you enjoyed it! More chapters coming very soon, but for now I sleep.
]
Comments
Zachary Simmons
Fantasy is just so goooood lol. Like... why wouldn't you add dragons to something? Good romance is great though for sure, but I feel like it can be hard to do well, and it's just so rare in the webnovel space yeah. I have a big backlog of romance anime I need to watch, but I just haven't been watching much in general lately, which is a shame, cause there's some good stuff airing rn. If I fix my sleep schedule then hopefully I can get back to watching anime while I eat lunch, that was a good routine
im Panda
I used to read basically everything I could get my hands on, but when I started reading web novels I started going hard fantasy. For me it went like this, Anime > Manga > web novel and I pretty much haven't looked back. I am a sucker for a good romance, though they're difficult to find on Royalroad
