My Fusion System: Fusing Weak Soldiers with Direwolves at the Start-Chapter 51: Types Of Acranists

The environment was shrouded in a silvery fog, thick but not blinding, veiling the world in a soft, ghostly mist. Though obscured, the outlines of towering trees and the dew-kissed grass beneath remained faintly visible, as if the forest itself slumbered under a veil of dreams.

It was the early morning mist, dense, still, sacred in its silence, at a time when even the birds had yet to chirp their first notes.

Through this quiet shroud, three wooden wagons rolled steadily across the old trail of Devil Forest, their wheels crunching softly against the damp earth. Each wagon was occupied by four armored Guardsmen; garbed in leather cuirass and bear fur cloaks. The first wagon, however, bore a fifth figure seated among them, Hound.

Ahead of the wagons, three horses trotted with purpose. Mounted atop them were three riders. Flanking the left and right were two women, their postures upright and vigilant. The one on the left was Mildred, draped in a black cloak, her hood pushed back to reveal hair as black as night.

On the right rode Vi, also cloaked, her silver hair hiding within the hood, her eyes constantly scanning the woods for danger. Between them, riding with a composed ease, was Kaelor, his blonde hair tousled by the wind, his gaze fixed forward, deep in thought.

They galloped at first, hooves pounding rhythmically against the soft forest floor, disturbing the quiet. But after a time, the horses slowed into a steady trot, letting the rhythm of motion fall in line with the stillness around them.

Mildred reached across her saddle and offered Kaelor a waterskin. He accepted it without a word, lifting it to his lips and drinking deeply, the cool liquid flowing down his throat and washing away the dryness.

When he had had enough, he corked it and made to return it to her. But as he stretched the waterskin toward Mildred, a thought tugged at his mind.

"You’re an Acranist?" he asked, voice low but curious.

Mildred raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the question. She blinked, as though unsure how to respond. Kaelor then turned his gaze to Vi. "And you’re also an Acranist."

Vi mirrored Mildred’s expression, lifting her brow in mild confusion.

"You’re both Acranists," Kaelor continued, "but you feel... different. Like a Swordsman and a Spearman, both warriors, yet distinct. Is it because of the spells you learned?"

The two women exchanged a knowing glance and shook their heads in unison. It was Vi who answered, her voice calm, but edged with a faint pride.

"There are different types of Acranists," she explained. "My affinity lies with the elements, and so I train as a Combat Acranist. Mildred, however, has an affinity with the void, that’s the singular name we give to a multitude of strange and powerful forces, like how ’legion’ can mean many. She’s a Witch."

She said the last word with quiet reverence, and Kaelor’s eyes widened, flickering back to Mildred.

Vi chuckled, amused at his reaction, but she hadn’t finished.

"There are also the Acranist Physicians," she went on, "those who dedicate themselves to healing and purification. Their power depends on their affinity with light. The stronger that connection, the deeper their healing, some can regrow severed limbs, others purge poison with a mere touch."

Mildred remained silent, her gaze forward, but a small smile played on her lips as Vi continued.

"The last kind is the Sorcerer. They’re rare. Very rare. Sorcerers have affinity with the abstract, the unknown, the strange, the unseen. Their magic isn’t about control but expression. A Sorcerer might give life to a stone or summon what doesn’t exist from the plane of the abstract. Some can rewind time."

Kaelor listened, thoughtful.

"Which is the strongest?" he asked.

This time, both women answered together, without hesitation. "Combat Acranist."

They glanced at each other and smiled faintly, before Vi continued.

"A Sorcerer might be able to scream a hole into the earth or summon a creature of nightmare or even fix a broken bridge," she admitted, "but a Combat Acranist can wield the elements. The very air becomes a weapon to us. Earth, fire, wind, water, we don’t borrow from them, we command them."

"But a Witch," Mildred added softly, her voice like smoke curling into the wind, "can summon you into her mind domain while your body lies helpless, wherever it is. Inside that realm, she is sovereign. She can bind you, break you, torment you... and no one would ever know. To others, you would look like you’re only asleep."

Kaelor shivered. He realized then that even if Combat Acranists were considered the most powerful in a duel of raw strength, it was best not to cross a Witch, not unless you were prepared to fight a war within your own mind. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"As long as I have my sabers with me, I don’t care where I am," Hound said, his voice like gravel underfoot. "In the mind of an Acranist or against another who wields flame, I’ll win, so long as Lord Kaelor commands it."

The women exchanged glances, unsure whether to take the words seriously.

Kaelor chuckled from atop his horse. "Chivalry, brother."

Hound straightened at that. A rare warmth flickered in his stern eyes, Kaelor’s praise meant the world to him.

"We’re here," Vi announced, nodding ahead.

Jagged rocks jutted from the earth like broken spears, marking the rim of the Oasis Basin. Kaelor kicked his horse, and it burst into a gallop, hooves thundering against the dry ground. The wagons and riders behind surged forward, following their lord into the basin.

As they crossed into Bighorn Fields, a vast carpet of tall grass unfurled before them, tranquil at first glance.

But then Kaelor’s eyes widened.

In the sky ahead, monstrous winged shapes circled and swooped low over a scattered herd of sheep. Their huge leathery wings flapped with unnatural speed, and in their claws dangled squirming sheep, some already torn apart. The creatures were nearly human-sized, thick-bodied with membranous wings, wide ears, and twisted, fang-filled faces. Their two enormous canines gleamed like daggers.

A piercing cry shattered the moment.

"Lan!"

Kaelor turned sharply. Kan’s son was caught in the claws of one of the beasts, his limbs flailing as he cried.

Kaelor’s breath slowed.

The bat-creature’s wings beat powerfully as it began ascending with its prey. The boy screamed again, louder this time.