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AR Chapter 371
🕑 Added 2025-04-22 04:00:14 +0000 UTCI listened to the sounds of khatif rushing through the forests beyond my sight. They screeched instructions to each other to ensure that nobody was caught off guard by the slithering shadows that the wyrms became in the deeper darkness. After a couple of minutes, though, I couldn’t think about that any longer.
“Fifteen seconds and counting!” Foire shouted as he sprinted through the forest. His was the most dangerous position, and he needed to keep himself close enough to the pair of chasing wyrms to keep them from being pulled away by the other distractions. He’d done his job masterfully, the hunting pair pursuing him with hoarse, wretched screams. As he reached the edge of the forest, they hesitated for the briefest moment. From the other side of the clearing, I tensed up from where I was hidden. This was the tipping point. If we couldn’t get them out of the forest’s protection, then the hunt would be so much harder.
There wasn’t reason for me to fear, because Foire continued escaping, drawing some distance between himself and the shadowy monsters. That must have incited their hunting instincts, and they lunged forward and into the soft light shed by the cloudy skies. It was the first time in months that I’d seen one of the creatures, and the first time ever I saw them in enough light to see the details of their bodies without thermal vision.
A pair of long serpentine bodies, each with two legs, matte black leathery skin, and a faint smoke that constantly trailed off of them, charged forward. Their strange maws opened cavernously, the bottom of their jaws opening to allow their mouths to open much wider than should have been possible. As Foire dodged to the ambush point, I drew just a little from [Spear of the Many], just enough to ensure that I could carry Hala and Solia into position in time. Then, as the fifteenth second passed, I and one hundred other citizens of the Empire bolted from the cover of the brush on the opposite side of the clearing. The shadow wyrms had just entered the perimeter of the prepared burnable materials.
Trusting in our evaluation of the wyrms as desperate and volatile, I dropped Hala at the closest side of the perimeter. She would do what she needed to. Or she would die.
Our guess that the wyrms would pursue prey even if things seemed to be turning against them was proven correct. As soon as we sprang into action to hunt the beasts, Foire accelerated to his true top speed, and as he drew further away from the attacking wyrms, they changed their focus. I’d given them a large berth, and the armed Khatif and Keel kept a slight berth from the piles of wood that would soon become pyres. So… Hala was exposed.
To her credit, she waited until after Foire had passed her position and turned around to face the wyrms himself. Then, as the two ravening beasts came within 50 feet or so of her, she spread both hands and sent a jet of flame to the two nearest heaps of dried, unneeded wood that’d been tossed aside by the Kha and Kha’Tal. The long-dead leaves exploded into flame, and Hala sprinted towards the nearest pyre, the one on the opposite side of Solia and myself.
With Hala beginning the assault, every magically inclined Khatif and wolfstag rushed to complete the fiery encirclement. I bolted to the far side, fighting to complete the trap; we made it in time, and Solia sent half a dozen more fires into piles, where they erupted in flames. As the wyrms realized they’d been forced into a deadly position, they changed their reactions entirely. They screeched and one tried to dive into shadow to no avail. The other simply rushed forward, seeking escape just beyond Hala’s reach.
In the end, it was faster than she was, and burst out of the encirclement running, uncaring to seek for food. Unbothered, or merely stupidly fearless, the female sprinted forward without worrying about the wyrms’ venom. She and Solia quickly met up, and the wyrm that had attempted to dive into the shadow was trapped. It keened in terror, calling for its pair. I didn’t expect to see it return, but I was wrong. The escaped individual whirled around and saw that its ally or mate had been trapped and roared in a way that somehow made its smoky afterimage loom larger and more intimidating.
“Throw me a spear!” I demanded as I rushed forward. The trapped one would be easily dealt with, but with a highly mobile and desperately motivated enemy outside, I’d help fortify the line. With [Quaking Claw] and my magic in general, I’d be able to help stave off any flanking attacks that served to break the line. While I made that decision, Brutus grumbled beside me as he grabbed his own spear tight. The wood creaked in his grip, the weapon not made for use by such a powerful individual.
“I’ll get you a good one, ok?” I teased the Alqat. He didn’t engage, his vision focused entirely on the creature that could pose a threat to me. To my surprise, Brutus held the spear with some measure of familiarity, though it had been obvious he didn’t have training with it. The instinctive familiarity that Nievtala had granted to me seemed to also apply to him, somehow. I wasn’t going to complain though, as the beast rushed into the front ranks, many of the spears scraping off its skin or doing only minimal damage.
Brutus and I plunged ours into its chest, just above its two limbs. It screeched in pain and spat at us. The thick glob of mucus was a sickly purple, and I abandoned my solid strike. The snow sizzled where the spit touched it, and an acrid scent filled the air. Brutus pressed the attack, trying to plunge his spear’s head into the wyrm’s heart. It pulled back with a wet squishing sound and its blood flowed freely to the ground. As it turned its attention to my guard, I pushed [Quaking Claw] through the spear and jabbed forward, back into the wounds it’d sustained. The spear cut easily through flesh, skin, and fat as it shrieked in agony.
As it turned its attention back to me, I pulled back, enjoying the back and forth, the thrill of the hunt. As it gathered more of its acidic or venomous spit in its throat, a surprising helper appeared. Arwa’s children’s crackling fangs found the tip of its tail, pulling it back. Its sole ranged attack was thwarted as six Voltaic Wolfstags pumped its body full of agonizing electricity. It twitched but turned back to the canines. They knew when to retreat though, and with at least a dozen more spears seeking its flesh, its attention was pulled back to the Khatif and Keel killing it.
While the wolfstags circled to find another opportunity to strike, the trapped wyrm cried out plaintively. I didn’t look back, but the one we’d surrounded seemed to make a choice at that sound. It focused back towards the forest and leapt madly towards the encirclement there. Its jaws and claws swiping wildly, it made the line bow back from its assault. Its back, however, was exposed as it was slowed, and the other half of the Voltaic Wolfstags’ pack lunged in. As the twitching coursed up its body, I could feel that the wyrm’s death was at hand, and I drew on [Spear of the Many].
My spear, empowered by my [Skill], plunged into the base of the wyrm’s skull. It twitched wildly and I left the weapon where it’d found flesh. As it died, I grinned widely and raised my fist in triumph as I shouted, to be echoed by the rest of the hunters,
“Victory by fang and blood!”
