"This is pretty bad," he said out loud, startling the duo, who had been frozen for quite a few monts already.
It was the first ti he’d spoken in hours.
His voice cut through the deafening rain and the symphony of echoing roars as if they didn’t exist, clearly reaching them.
Lady Emt threw him a sharp gaze. "Oh, really? Does it seem like—"
Uriel sighed, cutting her off, dismissively waving a hand her way.
"I’m not sure this is the ti for misplaced anger and needless jabs, lady. If we survive, you’ll have all the ti you want to admonish for my sins."
He turned to Amon.
"What Magic types do your circles have? If you want to help, I need to know."
Amon froze, his breath hitching and eyes widening. Seeing the young man’s shock, Uriel couldn’t help but inwardly roll his eyes.
Why was the man so hell-bent on acting weak?
It had to be rembered that according to Uriel’s lineal talent, Amon was a wolf in sheep’s clothing: Peak E-Ranker, Subli Evolver, Sixth Circle Mage, and a Gold Spark Bearer.
It was ridiculous—so much so that Uriel was almost entirely sure that Amon had sothing to do with the greater conspiracies at play; whether it be him being a regressor or soone close to one, or whatever other mystery surrounded their world.
Otherwise, it made no sense.
With such a slab of achievents, Amon was almost equal to Ayah and Enoch—assuming he too had a God Class, that is—which was ludicrous.
Uriel almost found it funny. What were the odds he’d end up in the one safe room with an anomaly on par with Ayah and Enoch, and another anomaly who sohow knew about his past and hated his family and ho so viscerally?
Had Uriel been a fool—or had it been the version of him from a few weeks ago—he’d have most likely ignored it and assud it was a coincidence.
But at this point, it was all too obvious that he was slowly being strung into a play sohow, drawn and pulled toward sothing.
If Salazar’s Advent execution plan, Lirik’s torture and interrogation, Thoryl’s trap through the lineal talent in his pack, and his eting with Ayah hadn’t been enough to prove the existence of this ga, then this had to be the tipping point.
If this was all a ga, then he’d play along.
...
Amon blinked once, then twice, then a dozen more tis until his shock faded and he exhaled a deep breath.
His previous air of agitation faded and his features sharpened, his bright erald gaze suddenly becoming unreadable.
"All my rings are offensive in so way. My first four rings are elental, my fifth is berserk-healing, and the sixth is a specialised crafting type, focused on battle tools."
Uriel nodded and humd.
By now, the beasts flooding in were already surrounding them, battles having erupted across the ruined expanse.
A few hundred ters away, back and front, groups of boars and blue n, the forr armoured and the latter wielding sharp spears, rushed toward them.
In nothing but a few minutes, battle would spark.
"Mm." Uriel nodded. "Do you know how to cast formations from your spells?"
Amon shook his head.
In the sa instant, scholar robes almost identical to Uriel’s draped over his body; the major differences being the silver collar and their dark, silken colours.
"Alright. Cast a general healing spell, then anchor it to a portion of the ground. I’ll take care of the rest."
In a blink, with a roll of Amon’s wrist, a beautiful set of green runes took shape in the air, bound by dark silver strings that assembled to form a spell circle.
The spell circle floated atop Amon’s palm and, just as told, he anchored the spell in a portion of the ground beneath them, using his resonance to offload the cost.
The spell would be fueled by ambient aether and would heal, to a certain degree, all within its vicinity.
Though Uriel had Amon do this casually, doing so would have left most mages stumped.
Anchoring a spell in a physical location and offloading its cost to the atmosphere would, to so, be the peak of magic they’d only dream of and never attain.
Yet the two didn’t react.
A golden spell circle appeared atop Uriel’s palm.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The groups of beasts who’d targeted them were getting closer, and now they were specifically surrounded and enclosed within a zone of less than half a kilotre, beasts on all sides.
WHOOSH!
Uriel’s spell fused into Amon’s, and to the latter’s shock, he felt his connection to his spell shatter, taken over by Uriel.
The hybrid spell circle vanished, only to reappear high in the dark skies above, having beco a gigantic and looming formation over the chaotic expanse, its golden light illuminating the scene.
Its effects imdiately washed over the humans fighting across the ruins.
"Alright. Good luck."
BANG!
The three of them vanished just in ti to escape the converging stampede.
...
Uriel reappeared amidst a crowd of chaotic beasts.
Rain fell around him, mud dragging his feet inward and harsh winds blowing about, powerful and heavy, lined by thunderous echoes that resounded through the air.
His mind emptied, and his uniqueness activated yet again, aether burning to slow his perception to a crawl.
In truth, what he was doing was foolish.
He was an early-step G-Ranker who’d undergone his first major evolution re hours ago, in a crowd of F- and E-Rank beasts, within their ho ground, in a flood of aether that favoured them.
The most logical choice for Uriel would’ve been to find Ayah and Enoch and instantly get into formation, assuming the role of a backline support.
His body was the weakest, but his aether reserves the highest, and his powers the most support-oriented, and with his spark being dormant, he was even more defenceless than he usually was.
And worse than all, with the formation Uriel had cast in the skies, which would constantly heal all humans fighting around him and in turn weaken the beasts, half his aether was already gone.
It was the pinnacle of foolishness.
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