The Aspect Gutran used against me wasn’t one I’d have guessed in a hundred years. As soon as I hastily agreed and prepared myself, his throat had expanded a little like a toad’s. And then he had belched out a shot of what I could only describe as a blob of superheated lava that glimmered like a disco ball.

  I dodged it. As soon as Gutran fired it, with just one look, I knew that trying to use Reflection was not going to end well for me.

  “That was going to hurt, wasn’t it?” I said, less of a question and more a slightly-accusatory suspicion.

  “A little bit,” Gutran said. “But don’t worry. I repressed it a great deal to ensure it wouldn’t actually be destructive.”

  That made me think about the level of control Gutran could exhibit. It was what I was trying to achieve, more or less, with making Gravity try to act on things like energy and gases.

  Gutran modified his Aspect usage even further to make sure those globs of disco magma wouldn’t burn holes right through me. Then I started properly training, channelling as much force as I could using my Power Attribute while also focusing on Reflection to ward off the magical impact.

  This was exactly what I had intended to accomplish with my new Augmentation. Reflection couldn’t block all of the damage from Gutran’s Aspect of Living Lava. Even if it nullified a strong chunk of the magical, fiery energy—only because Gutran was lowering its intensity a great deal—there was an explosive burst of momentum that occurred at every strike.

  That was what I tried deflecting.

  Yet another consideration pilfered through my mind as I trained. Aspect of Living Lava. That was what Gutran called it. It sounded fancy, just as intriguing as Sreketh’s Aspect of Painted Power.

  In other words, there were complicated Aspects that went beyond singular concepts like Gravity. Complicated, but still not Compound Aspects, as Kostis had talked about. I supposed Illumination and Flare were a little more on the complicated side compared to basic Heat and Light, but still not quite there.

  I couldn’t completely focus on training. A part of me kept thinking Sreketh would burst in and drag me back to Ring Four because Brasvay had shown up to kick everybody out.

  Eventually, I called it quits a few hours before I really needed to. Part of it was because I wanted to let Gutran get back to smithing before I took up too much of his time—I had a feeling he was being extra generous because he had been a tiny bit harsh about my Weave concerns earlier. The other part was that I had made enough progress to at least earn another couple of ranks.

  [ Rank Up!

  Your Thauma Attribute has risen by one Rank.

  Your Path of Burning Starlight has risen by one Rank.

  Thauma: Iron V

  Path of Burning Starlight: Silver IX ]

  My right arm was bruised like a butcher had been tenderizing it for hours. By the time I left, a mottled patchwork of red and faint purple marks blanketed my limb well past the elbow, as well as light scorch marks here and there. It would have been worse if I didn’t have the combination of Mana Injection and Mana Heal to count on.

  I didn’t mind though. At the end there, I felt like I was making real progress. I wasn’t just pushing off the destructive, fiery power of Living Lava. It had felt like I was beating back the impacts too at the end.

  Still, I hadn’t yet received the new Augmentation. Same deal as Gravity’s new Affix. I’d need to work more.

  Despite my fears, Brasvay didn’t appear that day. On the next, however, a small troupe of Rakshasa wearing House Brasvay colours finally appeared to shoo us out of the temple.

  “You’re kicking people out of their homes!” Santoire shouted as he hauled his meagre few belongings in the rucksack he had prepared.

  “Curse you to the Pits, you demons.” Guille looked like he was on the verge of spitting at the Rakshasa. “You’re no better than the monsters attacking Zairgon!”

  They got cussed out by other cultists too. Credit to the Rakshasa, they didn’t respond. Just went about doing their job of securing the temple for their lord.

  Although, they certainly looked like they were ready for any altercations. All of them were big and somewhat brutish, and several were armed as well. Those that weren’t no doubt had strong Aspects to rely on.

  Regardless, I had ensured we were all ready to leave at a moment’s notice. A good chunk of that preparation had involved making it look like we were leaving and taking everything with us, even if that wasn’t really the case. For instance, we had packed all the stuff in Escinca’s office—well, my office—and hidden them away beneath a set of old basement doors that the Rakshasa weren’t likely to find even if they had been here for a month.

  The same went for our own belongings. We were carrying out what we needed to do, but a lot of the stuff had remained behind. Furniture, old books, pots and pans and bowls, the weapons we were hoarding, and so on, all were staying at the temple.

  If my plan worked right, then we’d be reuniting with them well before House Brasvay started taking them out.

  “The first day,” I told a somewhat depressed Sreketh. “They’ll mostly be obsessed with making sure that we all get out of there. That’s it.”

  “And then tomorrow?” Sreketh asked. “What if they start tearing the temple down tomorrow?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Then we’ll rebuild it when we get it back.”

  “Can we?”

  I smiled at her. “Did you ever get a chance to visit the local Anymphea dwellings? Well, even if you didn’t, we’re heading there now, so you’ll see. Who do you think got those built?”

  Admittedly, there were complications that would make rebuilding a destroyed temple harder than accomplishing what I had done with the Anymphea on Ring Four. The construction company was extra incentivized to help because the Anymphea were favoured by the Councillors and the Anymphea were rich to boot, and they had been clients of the Anymphea only a few weeks ago.

  None of those factors would come into play if we decided to rebuild the temple. It’d be more of an uphill climb for sure. But I had hope.

  “I guess I shouldn’t be too worried, though,” Sreketh said.

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “It was strange. I could see that… they cared about the temple in their own way. I saw some of them praying too.” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. If they wanted to pray to Arl, they could have done it with us, right? I thought they’d be more about destroying everything.”

  Hmm, that was interesting. I had also thought Brasvay would be more about extracting value from the temple. Although, I again remembered the vision I had seen of what felt like the sun god, and that had been a vision of a Rakshasa.

  Those had to be related.

  But it wasn’t my concern. My real goal was getting them out of there, and I knew the best way I could do that. I just needed to not let my worries get the best of me.

  We spent the rest of the day just setting things up for our temporary residence with the Anymphea. There weren’t that many cultists to begin with and several, like Aqrea, had their own homes outside the temple.

  Basically, the Anymphea had more than enough space to spare.

  I was able to squeeze a bit of training with the Anymphea in. They were powerful fighters, and that helped a lot. Since we were mostly sparring, I didn’t really get to train my new Gravity Affix as I had hoped to do, but that was fine.

  Instead, I got a lot of training with Reflection Affix. Even if it wasn’t raising Illumination’s rank since I was stuck at a breakthrough point, I was able to both better judge what kinds of attacks it would work best on and it felt like I was making it better and better at reflecting back all sorts of magical energy flung towards me.

  Obviously, none of that practice sufficed as a breakthrough for my Aspect of Illumination. I wasn’t expecting it to be.

  But it had two important benefits.

  One, I got another rank in Thauma. It was coming along nicely, and while I doubted my efforts in the upcoming battles were going to be enough to push it to Silver, it would still rise pretty fast.

  [ Rank Up!

  Your Fervour and Thauma Attributes have risen by one Rank.

  Your Path of the Archon Apostle has risen by one Rank.

  Fervour: Silver VIII

  Thauma: Iron VI

  Path of the Archon Apostle: Silver VIII ]

  For another, all the training I did with the Anymphea improved their impression of me. It had already been going up thanks to my efforts and plans leading to a great first battle against the Blight Swarm. But there was something different about direct fights. Ascelkos had shown just how highly regarded duels were in Anymphea society, and my performance at them had made the new locals all look at me in a new light.

  The day after we had moved out of the temple, I learned that Brasvay himself was visiting. It was causing problems.

  “No, we will not be allowing anyone to join your lousy little gang,” Santoire was saying viciously while holding back another person I faintly recognized as someone who came to the cult to pray every so often.

  Lord Brasvay himself was there, standing at the doorway of the temple—still missing its doors, I noted with satisfaction—looking at Santoire and the other man imperiously. “Really? Can you afford to disregard my generosity? Maybe you can, mongrel cultist, but what of the poor sot you’re trying to influence?”

  “I’m influencing? The Pits are you doing then, waving around bags of money like bribes for your dirty work?”

  “I am offering those who had to leave the temple fair jobs. If people are meritorious and hardworking, then my new institution will always have a place for them.”

  He said the fairest of words in the foulest of ways, and that was what ticked everybody off, including me.

  Santoire didn’t even bother answering. He just started dragging the man away. But I stopped him.

  “Cultist!” Santoire said, seeing me appear suddenly. Then his face hardened as he flicked a look at Brasvay. At the new owner of the Sun Cult temple. “There’s no need to waste your time on a bastard like that. They’ll start pillaging the temple any day now. Just you wait and watch.”

  “Watch your tongue, mud-drinker,” Brasvay said with a heavy warning. “Unless you want it to be ripped out of your worthless mouth.”

  Santoire paled a little in fright. He could summon anger, but he certainly had trouble maintaining it. Something I was thankful for in this specific instance.

  “I’d prefer if you didn’t threaten to physically harm my fellow cultists, Lord Brasvay,” I said. “Or anybody in Ring Four for that matter.”

  “Then leash your dumb mutt’s mouth, cultist.”

  “Why? Is your ego so fragile that you can’t bear some silly little words?”

  “A noble has an image to maintain,” he said with the haughtiest glare possible. The jewelled horns on his head looked extra sharp. “Not that I would expect lowborn scum such as you to understand.”

  Santoire summoned up his anger again, but I shushed him this time. I also pulled his hand away from the poor fellow he was trying to drag off.

  “If you’d like to work for Lord Brasvay,” I said. “Then no one should stop you physically. We can just warn you that it’s a bad idea. Most likely.”

  The Rakshasa lord scoffed. “You are stopping him all the same. Just with words instead of actions. How hypocritical of you.” I wanted to counter that offering advice and warning wasn’t the same as forcefully preventing someone from doing something, but he continued before I could interject. “Ring Four human. If you truly believe you are worthy of contributing to our grand mission, then you are welcome. I warn you though, it won’t be easy.”

  “Grand mission, is it?” My tone was mocking, but on purpose.

  He fell for the bait. “I wouldn’t expect one as lowly as you to understand true grandiosity. You weaklings are content with merely your passing fancies when it comes to the great Arlekhyon. We, the true followers of the Eternal Sun, know how to call upon him. We know how to bring about his true power.”

  “Stop blaspheming!” Santoire shouted.

  “Banished Gods?” Brasvay laughed. “Banished only to the weak, the ignorant, the impotent, the ants of this world. For one such as me, the gods will heed my call.”

  I didn’t have an answer to that, mostly because I was busy wondering how much of it was delusions of grandeur and how much of it was the truth. Tempting to think that it was a bit of both, but I didn’t have enough information to make a call. Which meant I’d need to be serious about ousting these jerks.

  Because they were clearly serious about their insane pursuit. It wasn’t just a noble’s passing evil fancy to push out the cultists and take over the sun cult. They had legitimate faith in that what they were doing really would bring them closer to the Banished Gods.

  Whether the little meeting with Brasvay was over just then or not, I was drawn away by the sight of someone familiar but unexpected approaching. It was one of the Ring One officers, the same smartly dressed Scalekin who had informed me about the trial of House Kalnislaw a few months ago.

  An inscrutable look passed between the officer and Lord Brasvay. I was reassured to see there was no love lost between the two of them.

  “Ross Moreland,” the Scalekin said. “Councillor Se-Vigilance would like to speak to you. Right this moment, if possible.”

  I nodded. Then I turned back to Brasvay, the look in my eyes promising that this wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Although, that wasn’t exactly what I said. “Thanks for the money, Brasvay. My bank account definitely appreciates it.”

  That was petty, but whatever. If Brasvay had a reply, I didn’t give him the opportunity to get in the last word. My Scalekin guide was already walking away, and I followed his lord-ignoring lead on my way to meet the Councillor. I was a little concerned about what Se-Vigilance wanted with me now of all times, but my mana core spun haggardly. Probably not a good sign.