It was not right that anyone would announce the death of people in such a casual manner as if they were ordering groceries.
Commander Rel did not move at first, and a small part of me hoped that she could see that what emerged from the mouth of Rex was madness, but her hesitation did not last for long as she nodded her head.
I had thought she would refuse, for one second there I had actually let myself believe that the woman who had organized the retreats in every previous loop, who had stood at the northern line until her squad fell behind her... that woman would not raise her hands against three Acolytes she had been sent to escort.
Then, when I saw that acknowledgment from her, I think my world got a bit darker.
She began walking towards us in a calm manner, not even bothering to draw her staff. I mean, why would she do that? It is not as if we were any threat to her, right?
Commander Rel lifted her left hand, palm forward, and a spell configuration began to form above the palm.
She was doing this without a focus, without anything but the open palm and the will of the woman behind it, and the damned thing was the size of a wagon wheel.
The spell configuration was made of light, and despite its size, it was built faster than any spell I had ever seen built, and this was her just casting with only one hand, and from her appearance, she did not seem to be in any struggle.
No wonder she did not bother to draw her staff... we were not a threat.
Some part of me, the part that was still running calculations even as the rest of me started screaming, registered what that meant.
Adepts could cast without staves. Hell, I had seen that happen in my past loops where two of them were shredding demons in their thousands, but as Acolytes, we were warned of the danger and foolishness of trying to cast spells without a powerful focus like a staff.
Adepts had souls dense enough to channel discipline without an instrument to focus through. The staff was a courtesy, an efficient way to keep the body from absorbing the heat of one’s own casting.
Obviously, Commander Rel did not consider us worth the staff, and I had memories to prove many times over that she was right.
Behind me, somewhere across the camp, someone was screaming. Several someones.
The sounds were the wrong sounds, because it was the sounds of mages casting at mages, the sounds of disciplines being deployed inside a camp against people who had been measuring earth and writing in field journals four minutes ago.
I heard Mage Torvin’s voice, sharp and afraid, and then I heard a sound I did not have a name for, and his voice suddenly cut off.
I did not turn to look... I could not turn to look.
The configuration above Rel’s palm was completing, and in the midst of all of that, I heard Bari calling my name.
His voice was small, and that sound drew my mind away from the chaos and madness. I had heard Bari speak like this once, and that was when he was first dropped off at the Academy by the gate... I think he was calling out to his elder brother, begging him not to leave him behind in this strange place... That time, I had stepped forward, even though I had not been in the Academy for more than an hour; I could not just see someone in distress and do nothing.
That same boyish voice filled with confusion and fear called my name, and I stepped forward.
"Stay behind me," I said, without even thinking, "I will protect you."
Dara was already moving towards us. She had heard what Rex had said and was seeing the madness happening around, and she ran towards us, knowing that even if the chance was slim, there was still safety in numbers.
Once again, she impressed me because her staff was up and her hands were working through a binding configuration.
There was confusion on her face, but her hands were steady. Dara would be reaching us in the next few seconds, but the configuration above Commander Rel’s palm was completed.
I did not see the cast leave her hand. I saw the air between Commander Rel and us condense, then I felt the pressure on Mortal Shell, and then I was moving towards her while bringing my staff up.
The cast was a glowing orb resembling a bubble. It crossed the four meters between us as a sphere of compressed force the size of a man’s torso, and I had built a Threadwork lattice in front of me without thinking, anchoring it to the ground.
"Crack... Boom!"
The lattice did not even last a moment, and it was gone in the same instant the sphere reached it, and the sphere kept coming.
I felt Mortal Shell pull tight as the invisible binding tightened across my body, the way it had tightened against Rex’s Flame, and then the sphere hit me.
This sphere was meant to kill me, and despite the ridiculous defense of mortal Shell, I was hurled ten meters through the air, and the top half of my Acolyte robe was shredded to pieces, the explosion of force also cut long lines through my flesh, as if I had been whipped with a razorwire, but strangely I was not bleeding, but at this time, I was not focused on this oodity.
My staff stayed in my hand because Staff Resonance held it in place, and I came down on my back beside the cookfire, shattering bowls and pans against my shoulder.
The air went out of me, and I could not even gasp in pain.
Inside me, Mortal Shell trembled as I felt this skill approaching its limit.
No matter how broken Mortal Shell was, something I was not even sure was meant for an Acolyte, or even an Adept, this skill was still at the Initiate Tier, and Rel was an Adept... that gap was freaking enormous.
The cast she sent to me, even if she did it without proper focus, was something that not even Rex could come close to matching.
I did not wait to see if she was surprised at my survival; I rolled and came up on one knee.
Around the camp, the wrongness was getting louder. A Surge cast crackled past me toward something I could not see.
A spell I had no name for hit canvas somewhere at the southern edge, and the canvas went up in a colored fire that was not supposed to be. Someone screamed, and then I heard laughter... it sounded like it was coming from Rex.