than fifty feet across, bubbling with something that looked like tar, which rose distinctly as they watched.
“The source of the Midday Darkness, eh Case?” said Monson to himself. “You weren’t kidding about that. Looks like I’m going to need to wrap this up quickly.”
Monson gave a half-smirk as he scripted a spell, whispering out loud as his fingers danced in the air. “This will get your attention. Combat Spell One: Burst.”
The Burst spell felt different coming from him than it did from the glove, and it was a great deal sloppier. It did not really take the same shape as before or roll over on itself as it did with the glove. Though while the ball of wind was not pretty, it was seriously strong and fired true, right at Baroty and his associates. But it was a low-grade spell to begin with, and combined with its shaky construction, it was not surprising when Baroty, faster than should have been possible, pulled out a Magi Blade and dissipated the ball of wind. He slowly turned his attention to Monson.
Commandos bounded over from all around, stepping lightly around Monson Grey with weapons trained upon him. The mysterious explosion of their equipment and the escape of their hostages now explained, Baroty’s men crept slowly in on him. Monson stood calmly as he sensed their apprehension. These men were afraid of him. He pushed the thought aside as he prepared to jump headfirst into the proverbial fire.
Baroty, closely followed by Aaron Gibson, pushed through the commandos, who were now only feet from Monson. Baroty grinned outlandishly as he neared.
“You know,” Monson spoke offhandedly. “It’s going to be hard for you to pull off the Dark Lord thing if you walk around grinning like a schoolboy.”
The smile on Baroty’s face instantly soured. “You are so much like your grandfather. He too never knew when to keep his mouth shut.”
Monson shrugged. “I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess.”
Baroty laughed. “And punished you shall be, Mr. Grey, punished you shall be.”
He gestured, indicating that he wanted Monson to follow. Monson did so as both guns and gloves were jabbed in his back. Baroty walked back towards the platform he and his men had been standing on.
Soldiers pushed and jostled Monson until he climbed the metal steps and stood parallel to Christopher Baroty. Baroty did not speak, but played with interfaces on what looked like next-gen equipment. Baroty busied himself with touchscreens while studying a simple white screen that flashed rune upon rune. Baroty eyed these greedily until, seemingly satisfied, he spoke to Monson.
“Marques never thought before he acted, either. Tell me Mr. Grey, did you not suppose those machines had a purpose?”
Monson didn’t say anything.
Baroty smiled and gestured to the machines. “Congratulations. You’ve single-handedly ensured the death of every person in this valley. A shame, really; I was going to let some of them live.”
Monson held his tongue, which seemed to amuse Baroty.
“I knew you would come, Mr. Grey.”
Monson exhaled calmly and spoke with ease. “Oh, so not only are you a Shadow Yog a i but also a mind reader. You must teach me some of those tricks. I bet they’re a kick at parties.”
Baroty’s eyes narrowed. “Ahh…so you understand the truth. It is really no matter. Now that I know the machine works, I can leave this place and move on to the next step of my plan.”
“The next step of your plan? You mean you actually think that you’re going to survive the onslaught of the Midday Darkness? Or did you forget about that little detail?”
“Of course we are going to escape the Midday Darkness. I would not have allowed it to come if I had not planned for the eventuality. And despite your rash actions, the Midday Darkness is repressed sufficiently for us to retreat and regroup, and then—”
Baroty pointed to the hole of tarry blackness. “The core of Queen Saris and the Shining Princess’ s creation lie
“The source of the Midday Darkness, eh Case?” said Monson to himself. “You weren’t kidding about that. Looks like I’m going to need to wrap this up quickly.”
Monson gave a half-smirk as he scripted a spell, whispering out loud as his fingers danced in the air. “This will get your attention. Combat Spell One: Burst.”
The Burst spell felt different coming from him than it did from the glove, and it was a great deal sloppier. It did not really take the same shape as before or roll over on itself as it did with the glove. Though while the ball of wind was not pretty, it was seriously strong and fired true, right at Baroty and his associates. But it was a low-grade spell to begin with, and combined with its shaky construction, it was not surprising when Baroty, faster than should have been possible, pulled out a Magi Blade and dissipated the ball of wind. He slowly turned his attention to Monson.
Commandos bounded over from all around, stepping lightly around Monson Grey with weapons trained upon him. The mysterious explosion of their equipment and the escape of their hostages now explained, Baroty’s men crept slowly in on him. Monson stood calmly as he sensed their apprehension. These men were afraid of him. He pushed the thought aside as he prepared to jump headfirst into the proverbial fire.
Baroty, closely followed by Aaron Gibson, pushed through the commandos, who were now only feet from Monson. Baroty grinned outlandishly as he neared.
“You know,” Monson spoke offhandedly. “It’s going to be hard for you to pull off the Dark Lord thing if you walk around grinning like a schoolboy.”
The smile on Baroty’s face instantly soured. “You are so much like your grandfather. He too never knew when to keep his mouth shut.”
Monson shrugged. “I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess.”
Baroty laughed. “And punished you shall be, Mr. Grey, punished you shall be.”
He gestured, indicating that he wanted Monson to follow. Monson did so as both guns and gloves were jabbed in his back. Baroty walked back towards the platform he and his men had been standing on.
Soldiers pushed and jostled Monson until he climbed the metal steps and stood parallel to Christopher Baroty. Baroty did not speak, but played with interfaces on what looked like next-gen equipment. Baroty busied himself with touchscreens while studying a simple white screen that flashed rune upon rune. Baroty eyed these greedily until, seemingly satisfied, he spoke to Monson.
“Marques never thought before he acted, either. Tell me Mr. Grey, did you not suppose those machines had a purpose?”
Monson didn’t say anything.
Baroty smiled and gestured to the machines. “Congratulations. You’ve single-handedly ensured the death of every person in this valley. A shame, really; I was going to let some of them live.”
Monson held his tongue, which seemed to amuse Baroty.
“I knew you would come, Mr. Grey.”
Monson exhaled calmly and spoke with ease. “Oh, so not only are you a Shadow Yog a i but also a mind reader. You must teach me some of those tricks. I bet they’re a kick at parties.”
Baroty’s eyes narrowed. “Ahh…so you understand the truth. It is really no matter. Now that I know the machine works, I can leave this place and move on to the next step of my plan.”
“The next step of your plan? You mean you actually think that you’re going to survive the onslaught of the Midday Darkness? Or did you forget about that little detail?”
“Of course we are going to escape the Midday Darkness. I would not have allowed it to come if I had not planned for the eventuality. And despite your rash actions, the Midday Darkness is repressed sufficiently for us to retreat and regroup, and then—”
Baroty pointed to the hole of tarry blackness. “The core of Queen Saris and the Shining Princess’ s creation lie
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