Before the stygian naga’s attack hit, I managed another buff. And once again, it was not vanish.


    You have cast enhanced reflexes, increasing your Dexterity by +16 for 20 minutes.


    I wanted the stygians to see me; I wanted them to focus their attacks on me rather than my allies. The battle would be easier that way.


    There was no time for further calculation, though. The naga’s attack was almost upon me. Blades out and arms spread, I braced myself for its touch.


    A voidball has hit you. Nether damage repelled!


    Void armor charge remaining: 66%.


    Void thief triggered!


    You have acquired the direct-targeted spell voidball (stolen) and will retain memory of it for the next 16 hours.


    Voidball (stolen) is a tier 5 spell that inflicts direct necrotic damage to the targeted area on impact. The nether’s version of the ubiquitous fireball spell, voidball, is especially deadly to living creatures.


    I exhaled sharply, hoping somehow that doing so would rid my mouth of the spell’s foul aftertaste—alas, it did not—then turned my back on the naga. As much as I wanted to take the fight to the creature, my first priority was escorting Shael to the others.


    Jogging alongside the bard, I refocused on the group ahead. We’d covered more than half the distance to the party, but while I could easily see Safyre’s purifying field and the glimmering black dome that protected the four—Adriel’s doing, presumably—my allies were less visible. Stygian hydras and serpents were pressed tight against the lich’s shield and hacking at it with tooth and claw.


    Getting Shael through that mess is not going to be easy.


    But there was no need to go through the stygians. Over would do just as well.


    I glanced upward. There was still no sign of the overlord or any flying snakes. As yet, this was strictly a ground battle. Good. Windborne should do the trick again. It would get us to Adriel’s shield with limited risk.


    But how were we going to get inside once we arrived?


    I couldn’t ask Adriel to drop the black dome. That will be a recipe for—


    “Prime,” Ghost interrupted, “Adriel says she and Safyre will clear a path for you. Just say the word.”


    I smiled. Clearly my allies had also been working the problem and had figured out what needed to be done.


    Glancing left and right, I took stock of the stygians before responding. Shael was moving at a good pace, and I judged none of the hydras and serpents from the first pack would catch us before we reached the others. Even better, the nagas ahead had yet to launch any further attacks.


    Interestingly enough, the two nagas behind us had not joined the rest of the first pack in their chase and appeared more interested in the tundra’s portal than us. Whatever they were up to, I was sure it wasn’t anything good, but dealing with the pair would have to wait.


    “Tell Adriel to go ahead,” I replied. “Light them up. We’ll be there soon.”


    ? ? ?


    Over the next few seconds, death stalked the stygians.


    Safyre has cast furious storm.


    The mists roiled uneasily as storm clouds boiled overhead, unleashing bolt after bolt in a breathtaking spectacle of sound and light.


    A level 145 stygian serpent has been stunned.


    A level 131 stygian serpent has died.


    A level 167 stygian hydra has been stunned.


    ...


    …


    The nether creatures unfortunate enough to be caught out by Safyre’s magic were flung aloft, wreathed in coils of glittering energy. Most were stunned senseless. An unlucky few—struck multiple times or critically hit—simply died.


    Then, a heartbeat later, Adriel joined the fray.


    Adriel has cast Death’s righteous fury.


    In stark contrast to the lightshow Safyre was putting on, the lich’s own contribution lacked any fanfare. Cold gray fire leaped silently from her hand, through the black dome, and into the massed stygians pressed up against it.


    Whatever the fire touched died.


    Instantly.


    A level 140 stygian serpent has died.


    A level 183 stygian hydra has died.


    A level 187 stygian hydra has died.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ...


    …


    “Wow,” I murmured, recognizing Adriel’s casting for what it was: a blood memory. I’d seen her use it only once before—against the archlich’s wards, and that time it had been equally devastating.


    “Err…” Shael stuttered to a halt as we passed through the outer edge of Safyre’s purifying field and finally saw where we were going. “Should we be running to that?” he asked, panting for breath.


    “Don’t stop,” I ordered. “The fireworks show is our allies’ doing. They’re opening a path for us.”


    The bard looked like he wanted to protest further but wisely refrained and resumed running. I kept my own gaze fixed on the slaughter ahead. Walking a slow circle around the perimeter of her shield, the lich was purging it of stygians. Any moment now, I expected the creatures would break and flee—temporarily, of course.


    Sadly, though, the two nagas flanking the party were unaffected by Safyre and Adriel’s spells. The elites’ own shields stopped the aetherist’s stunning bolts and, positioned as far back as they were from the black dome, the pair were also out of reach of the lich’s killing flames.


    The nagas in fact seemed completely indifferent to the fellows’ fate. Ignoring the destruction Adriel and Safyre were wreaking they released another pair of voidballs my way.


    “I can see you!” Ghost sang out.


    “I see you too,” I assured her, keeping a wary watch on the incoming missiles. “Is Adriel planning on lowering her shield?”


    “Yes, but only long enough for you to enter.”


    I frowned. I would be of limited help inside the lich’s shield. Just like Anriq and Ghost, I would be forced to stand around doing largely nothing while the mages ran amok with their spells.


    “I’m not coming inside,” I stated, arriving at a decision.


    “What! Why?”


    My reply was of necessity delayed. The voidballs were almost upon us. Accelerating ahead, I opened the distance between me and Shael so that when the missiles hit, he would be unaffected.


    Then, I braced myself and waited.


    2 voidballs have hit you!


    A voidball has failed to harm you. You are immune to this spell.


    A voidball has failed to harm you. You are immune to this spell.


    Void armor charge remaining: 32%.


    Void siphon activated!


    You have siphoned a portion of your foes’ mana. Mana remaining: 36%.


    I grimaced at seeing how little mana I had remaining after suffering the double hits. Void siphon had barely done anything to restore my reserves either, and I knew I couldn’t risk intercepting further voidballs.


    But perhaps I won’t need to.


    Reaching out to the Adjudicator, I queried the Game on the status of the spells my void armor had recently absorbed.


    Currently stored spells: 2 iterations of the voidball (stolen) spell.


    Remaining storage time: 8 seconds.


    Excellent. Delaying no further, I unleashed the two captured spell imprints in quick succession.


    Void redirect activated!


    You have successfully reconstituted the stolen spell, voidball, and redirected it at a level 238 stygian naga.


    You have successfully reconstituted the stolen spell, voidball, and redirected it at a level 236 stygian naga.


    I had no idea if the nagas were immune to their own spells, of course, but at the very least the voidballs I’d sent sailing back at the pair would keep them distracted long enough for Shael to reach safety.


    “Hells, if that is not the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” the half-elf muttered as he caught up to me.


    I waved aside his words. “I won’t be able to do that again,” I warned as I resumed running. “We’ll have to reach the others before we’re attacked again.” I paused for effect. “Or else.”


    The bard didn’t say anything, but digging deeper into his reserves, he found an extra burst of speed.


    Smiling grimly, I resumed my conversation with Ghost while I kept pace with Shael. “Tell Adriel I suspect an overlord is on the way with reinforcements. We have to clear the field of the stygians before they arrive.”


    “An overlord!” Ghost exclaimed. “You’ll need my help, then. I’m coming out.”


    “I could use the help,” I admitted, and after a second’s thought added, “Bring Anriq too.” My eyes darted left and right. Both voidballs were halfway to their targets. And while the nagas were not fleeing, their gazes were glued to the onrushing missiles.


    Good, I thought, returning my attention to the scene in front. We were only forty yards away from the others now. Yanking open my bag of holding, I rifled through its contents.


    Beside me, I heard Shael gulp audibly as he finally made sense of what lay ahead. “Is that—is that a… lich?”


    “Yes,” I replied shortly, still searching the bag.


    “And she is an… ally?”


    “Oh yes.”


    Thirty yards. I began drawing psi.


    “What about the werewolf?” Shael gasped. “And is that a stygian? Don’t tell me they’re allies too!”


    “Ghost is not a—”


    I broke off as a string of Game alerts demanded attention. The voidballs had just struck their targets.


    You have critically hit a level 236 stygian naga.


    You have critically hit a level 238 stygian naga.


    No damage inflicted. Your targets’ shields have blocked the attacks.


    I smiled tightly. I still had no idea whether the voidballs would hurt the nagas, but I knew now at least it would damage their shields.


    Severely damage, I amended, eyeing the much dimmer glow surrounding the pair. That’ll make killing them later easier.


    “Ghost is not a stygian,” I said turning back to Shael, “she’s my familiar.” My searching hand finally found the items I was looking for in the bag of holding. Extracting them, I closed the bag and re-secured it on my belt again.


    “Your familiar!” Shael exclaimed, his confusion making itself known even through his heaving breaths. “Since when do rogues have—”


    “Here, hold this,” I said, shoving two of the four objects I’d removed into Shael’s open hands.


    You have lost 2 farspeaker bracelets from the named set: Sintar’s link.


    “What’s this?” Shael asked, looking down.


    “Farspeaker bracelets,” I replied. “Give one to Cara—” that was the name he knew her by, at least—“and put the other one on yourself.” Heeding my own instructions, I did the same.


    You have equipped a farspeaker bracelet from the Sintar link set.


    “Cara? As in the emporium agent, Cara?” Shael asked, his gaze darting from me to the dome ahead. We were only twenty yards away now, and just like I’d anticipated, the serpents and hydras had begun to scatter.


    “Yes, she goes by Safyre now,” I replied across the farspeaker link.


    “I would say I’m shocked, but I think we’re beyond that now,” Shael said numbly. Before I could respond he went on, “Why do we need the bracelets, anyhow? And why do I have to give—”


    He broke off as he figured out the answer for himself. “You’re not entering the shield?”


    “I’m not,” I confirmed and released the spell I held waiting.


    You have cast windborne.


    Grabbing hold of Shael again, I pulled him onto the windslide. “Here we come, Ghost.”