The Novel's Sidekick

Q: What causes a spatial rift?

A: If, for some reason, the spatial nodes between physical and spiritual realms or even the cognitive realm destabilise, the aftereffect can turn up as a rift between spaces. It works as a portal to a whole different space whose laws might differ completely from the regular physical realm.

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Jon didn’t find his mentor anywhere near the saint beast, but he hardly had time to search. There were two of them, but before them, there was one huge enraged saint beast rampaging.

Jon couldn't waste time searching for his mentor. Yes, the decision was hard, but this was what Lord Penron taught him. Gritting his teeth, he flew, pushing Noyar towards the rampaging saint beast.

This was the first time both of them were seeing a saint beast. All of that was just tales from stories before this, but they couldn't say they were all enthusiastic about this meeting.

Agitated would be the right word to describe their feelings

By the speed the beast was rampaging, it wouldn’t take even a quarter of an hour to reach the foot of the mountain and from there another five to the train station. So only about twenty minutes for the chaos to spread, if they did nothing, or fail to do anything.

“The cavern is exactly the opposite direction,” Noyar shouted as her figure hurled through the angry wind. The force that was pushing her against the natural force of gravity reduced, but she didn’t have to be worried. She skidded up again as Jon followed closely behind.

“How much distance do we have to lure it?” Jon asked, as he had never been in the cavern.

“More than fifty miles,” Noyar sighed. They would reach the reindeer in a minute now. She could feel her blood pressure soaring.

“Fifty miles,” Jon grunted loudly. “This isn’t going to be easy, but we have no other option. Even if we fail to trap it, we have to lure it away.”

“Alright,” Shailyn said, the sword gripped tight on her palms. “Push me to its left.”

She prepared her wind stance, hurling through the air. In one full stroke, she had to draw its attention, and she knew no better than to hit it with Wind Breaker, her most powerful attack.

The beast rampaging didn’t notice their approach. Its massive body rushed through the snow-filled land as the wind cried.

Jon pushed her right where she needed to be. Even though he was exhausted, moving around using his dominion of gravity, even carrying other people, he would not fail in critical tasks like this.

Noyar hurled over the top of Winterheart Reindeer, swinging her sword with the full slash as the Wind Breaker charged with a tremendous water blade, rushing to cut the beast in half.

Perhaps that would happen if it was a normal spirit beast. Even though the Wind Breaker got through the wind, cutting through it, it couldn’t even cut an inch in the back of the Saint Beast.

However, it did manage to get the beast’s attention. It cried as a suffocating force rushed out of it, flinging her away over the course of her fall. She couldn’t land safely, but she was safe, mostly. For now.

Her attack barely scratched the reindeer, but it caught her attention. She succeeded in catching its attention, but she didn’t like what would get in return. Noyar couldn't stand up yet, but the Reindeer almost got to her. She swallowed a breath, gripping her sword tight. “Jon,” she screamed, “are you there?”

The only thing she heard were the cries of the beast and the angry wind swirling. She kicked up, sword ready to make a move. The beast was just about to reach her, and she swung with everything she had.

In the very next moment, the massive beast flung a dozen metres away to her adjacent side on the left. No, it was not from her sword. She turned her head to find Jon standing in a pose, as if pushing air with his bare arms.

“Are you alright?” he asked, flying to catch her as they both hovered in the air.

“Well,” Noyar opened her mouth, looking at the beast, rolling to stand up again. “We manage to get its attention.”

“Now, it's the hard part,” Jon said and tossed her in the air and then pushed her with the dominion of gravity.

The very next moment, the beast lunged at him, roaring. Jon withdrew his arms and pushed with everything he got, but he was not going to fling away the beast this time. No, it was not that he didn’t want, it's just that he couldn’t. With the sheer strength, the saint beast charged towards him, making the wind and spiritual aura undulated, he knew there was no contest in a fair, one-on-one battle.

But this was hardly a one-on-one battle. Getting nothing of the beast, Jon pushed against the earth and lurched up in the air. There was nothing in front of the beast now, it skidded to where Jon was and turned, and abruptly blades of hard water ripped against its face.

It roared as Noyar's Wind Breaker ripped apart, distorting in the hurling wind.

“Noyar, let’s go,” Jon shouted as Noyar started to run. She lunged in the air, getting a little momentum, and then Jon pushed her as they flew towards the direction of the rift.

The beast cried behind them, its legs bolted, chasing after them.

. . .

Shailyn felt lost, sitting in the camp. A dozen unconscious bodies lay surrounding her, but her eyes kept staring outside through the window. She hadn’t closed it after they were gone.

The afflictions inside her were not undone. It would take more than just a little channelling of the purgation energy to eliminate all of that which she faced in the last two nights. She could barely draw spirit force, and even the working of her physical organs grew limited.

If she wanted, she could try one thing for the last, however, that’s her last resort, which would dry up reaching the saint beast. She could only pray from here.

Abruptly, she felt some undulation behind her and then some weeping. Turning her head, she found Oscar’s friend—Yeriel—awoke and weeping. Shailyn’s mind chilled, finding the wrong air around her. There seemed to be a blackness looming around her, which unnerved her the most, even more than the beast's antlers on her head.

However, she had given her words to Oscar that she would save her, but she failed there. She couldn’t hesitate now. “Hey,” she called in a soft tone. “Yeriel, how’re you feeling?”

Shailyn approached her, but the moment Yeriel looked at her, the surrounding darkness warped. It didn’t reduce but grew in volume.

“Calm down,” Shailyn said, reaching for the girl, slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one will.”

“You are?” Yeriel looked at her with teary, cloudy eyes. “You’re Oscar’s aunt, Mistress Rosalyn’s Sister?”

“Yes,” Shailyn said, getting closer, but it appeared Yeriel wasn’t hearing her.

“Oh, Ishar,” she wept, “Oscar, where’s he? What did I do to him?” She looked around the room to find a dozen unconscious figures laid, which frightened her even more as she screamed. “Oh Ishar, what did I do to them?”

The spiritual aura, even the spiritual nodes, warped with her cries as the surrounding darkness distorted to envelop her.

“Calm down.” Shailyn was not so soft anymore. She wrapped her arms around the poor girl, embracing her tightly. “You didn’t do any of this. You harmed no one. Oscar is fine. Calm down . . . It's alright, they are alright.”

The distortion was sorted out by a lot as Yeriel breathed against her chest, heaving up and down, weeping. Noyar rubbed her head on the back.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t get there in time,” Shailyn said softly. “I know they did horrible things to you, but . . . you’re alive, you are going to figure it out, we’ll help you figure it out.”

Yeriel stayed there for about a couple of minutes as Shailyn rubbed her hair. The horrifying cries resounded even in the camp as Yeriel jerked her head to look out the window.

“She's weeping,” she said, looking, and got out of Shailyn’s embrace. “She lost her cub, the agony, the pain, she’s hurting.”

“Yeriel?” Shailyn stood up to stand next to her.

The girl with the Winterheart Reindeer antler crown on her head looked at her. “Oscar,” she asked, “is he there?”

Shailyn bit her lips and nodded. “The saint beast has been rampaging for some time now,” she said. “They are stopping it from reaching the city.”

“No,” Yeriel whispered as she moved before the door. “No, no, no.”

“Yeriel,” Shailyn called, drawing her palm on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I need to go there,” Yeriel opened the door, “She’s hurting . . .”

She walked out of the door and started running in the snow, only wearing the oversized cloak—Oscar dressed her in.

“Yeriel?” Shailyn shouted, chasing after her. “Don’t go.”

She ran after the poor girl, but with her exhaustion and injuries, she couldn’t reach the poor girl, who had just gone through a demonic transformation. However, Yeriel was not in her right mind. She was running without watching her steps. After going about a hundred metres, her steps fumbled as she fell.

“Yeriel, don’t go.”

Yeriel acted as if she didn’t hear her, got up and started running again. She ran for several seconds, Shailyn still chasing after her in the swirling wind and snowfall. And then the wind rose further as she found Yeriel flying towards the centre of the conflict.

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