Chapter 212: Chapter 212

Then Fabrisse saw its stats.

Target: Aerial Apex – Noctyn, the Vaultwing Paraclysm

— Status: Completely Healthy, Assessing

‣ DEX (Dexterity): 72

‣ FOR (Fortitude): 65

‣ INT (Intuition): 67

‣ RES (Inner Resonance): 0

‣ EMO (Emotional Attunement): 138

‣ SYN (Synaptic Clarity): 80

[Failed to retrieve additional information. Upgrade your skill or engage with the adversary to learn more about their combat style.]

Noctyn? That wasn’t good. When a creature had an actual name, you know they would be powerful.

Another thing that wasn’t good was its Emotional Attunement stat. One hundred and thirty-eight. Why was it so high?

That wasn’t a predator’s number. That was a sensor array. What possible reason did a dungeon boss have to be that emotionally attuned? It wasn’t here to negotiate. It didn’t need morale. It didn’t need empathy.

“We need a plan,” Severa said, already lifting her hand as the corridor ahead began to breathe. “Noctyn; I know of this creature. It's an aerial apex construct-beast that is very wind-dominant. Complete environmental control is what it excels at. However . . . this manifestation is altered. Its resonance profile is stronger, and it seems to have a very strong magical presence. I suspect it’s feeding from something else.”

But it has 0 RES? How can it have a strong magical presence if it has 0 RES?

“That’s encouraging,” Tommaso muttered.

Severa didn’t rise to it. “Normally, it nests in open caverns, which explains the high ceilings. It will try to manipulate the winds to push us into unfavorable locations. I suppose we should use vertical denial. Noctyn’s lethality scales with altitude and sustained airflow. If we collapse its maneuvering space, we reduce its effective advantage and force it into reactive patterns. I will anchor center mass and establish a stable resonance field. Zan, if you can, please suppress lateral airflow—”

The Grand Luminary stepped forward. His aura already kindled around him in radiant filaments. “No,” he said.

He spoke in a low enough baritone to command attention; Fabrisse suspected this man had become so used to being obeyed that he no longer bothered raising his voice. This was a whole new level of control that even Headmaster Draeth would aspire to, although he had no idea why the Luminary thought it necessary to apply a skill to his speech.

“No?” Severa turned to him.

“Wind-spirit apex no listen but command. You do not shrink storm, but break crown you must.”

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“That sentence did not survive translation,” Severa said.

He ignored her entirely.

“We push answer from beast,” the Grand Luminary said. “Aura go all-way. Big flow. Much press. Ceiling hold-down, yes. Wind knot break, squeeze the empty places. If creature drink feeling, then we flood-feeling finalize it choke.”

Now this sentence definitely also did not survive translation.

There was a long, deeply uncomfortable pause.

Zan bowed her head once, respectful, and said something to the Luminary. He gave her a sharp nod. She then spoke quickly, clearly, in careful Raslani. “What the Grand Luminary means is that he proposes overwhelming Noctyn with continuous, high-output aura pressure by pinning it against the ceiling and collapsing its wind corridors all at once. His belief is that if the creature feeds on emotional resonance, then saturating the chamber with controlled aura will overload it instead of empowering it.”

“That is the worst possible approach,” Severa waved a dismissive hand. “You will give it exactly what it wants. Excess output, emotional spike, uncontrolled bleed—”

“My aura disciplined,” the Luminary shot back. “I do not leak. Your plan cages us. Mine ends the fight.”

The wind in the corridor surged again, harder this time, rattling loose grit from the ceiling.

So much for theoretical debates . . .

Tommaso raised his voice. “Maybe we could combine—”

“No,” both Severa and the Luminary said simultaneously.

Another roar of wind tore down the corridor, strong enough now to drag at cloaks and armor alike. Loose grit lifted off the floor and turned into a horizontal storm, and Fabrisse felt his boots scrape forward despite his weight.

“We don’t have time—” someone started.

The Grand Luminary lowered his stance and thrust his free hand forward. A luminous aura poured from him, and where it flowed, the wind stopped. No, it didn’t weaken. It simply stopped, forming a perfectly silent pocket around his projection.

Is his ability so overpowering he can just bend wind to his will?

Then the rest of the wind simply . . . went around his aura.

The current split, then reformed past the aura’s edge, slamming into the Luminary’s flanks. The pressure drove him backward anyway.

Oh. It’s not that overpowering.

The corridor howled louder, and the air now dense enough to feel like water. We were sliding. There would be no holding this without burning ourselves dry before the fight even began. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novelFirｅ.net

Severa made the call instantly.

“Positions!” she barked. “We’re getting pushed in—listen carefully!” She pointed without looking. “Luminary, left elevation, anchor near the column. Tommaso, midline, ten paces forward of entry. You’re our main firepower. Zan, right flank, keep clearance.”

Fabrisse waited for her instructions, yet Severa didn’t point at him.

She grabbed him. Her hand closed around his wrist as she pulled him stumbling to step with her.

“You stay with me,” she said. “Your job is to survive.”

“I’ll be in your way.”

“Then my job is to not have you do that.”

Then the corridor ended.

And the wind threw us into Noctyn’s domain.

The chamber opened like a maw. The ceiling soared into a space so dark that Fabrisse could only see through the glint against the blackened stone. Then Noctyn descended.

That thing looked like a giant bat, if bats were scary. Its wings were vast, membranous but serrated at the edges, and the faint glint of obsidian eyes gave him the creeps. Like all bats, Noctyn’s eyes were disproportionately large, and seemed inverted with irises that spun with liquid reflections like quicksilver. Its muzzle was elongated, more skeletal than mammalian, insectoid mandibles twitched beneath the main jaw, and wiry whisker-like tendrils extended from its snout. This thing was just every instinctive fear Fabrisse had ever carried amalgamated into a single creepy entity.

Miniature versions of itself darted through the air: bat-like creatures with insectoid limbs, jagged wings, and glinting eyes. They circled like metallic locusts, and were also gross.

Severa barked the formation again, and the others reacted with varying speed. Tommaso, true to form, leapt gracefully across the chamber in a single jump and landed exactly where she’d instructed: ten paces forward, midline, ready to launch his spells. Zan was already in position at the right flank. But the Grand Luminary . . . refused to separate. Despite Severa’s commands, he hovered slightly off the ground next to Zan, already glowing and rigid as a statue. He gave no indication he would move. Fabrisse felt Severa’s sigh before he even looked.

And sighed she did. Severa pushed off the ground, took flight and aetherically dragged Fabrisse aloft.

Fabrisse’s eyes widened as he looked down. What he’d assumed was solid stone beneath them didn’t look like solid ground at all, but instead seemed like a network of blackened, metallic grates, each panel riddled with tiny hexagonal holes. Through them, he could see the dark, twisting network of wind tunnels far below and gusts of air whistled up through the perforations.

Noctyn extended its wings. Then, wind smashed at them. Not from Noctyn. From the depth below.