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Chapter 227 - TFF
🕑 Added 2024-10-06 22:15:36 +0000 UTCAlan didn’t have the time to wait and see the result of his two skills and whether they had achieved anything. All senses inside of him screamed about the incoming danger. He used [Dark Step] immediately, barely dodging a set of four resplendent blades that tried to turn him into mincemeat.
The delay in his own movement skill made him well aware of the situation he was in. One slip, and it was a world of pain. There was barely time to take a breath and assess the situation as another set of blades was upon him again.
Over and over, he fled with barely part of a second to spare, and over and over they were next to him. The two moved in bursts of spatial skills that weren’t lesser than [Dark Step] at all. The golden insectoids fought as one, and Alan quickly found that he had no way to counterattack. If it was down to the way they wielded their blades, he would’ve already died.
The pressure they were exuding, the chaining of attacks one after the other as if one person was controlling both, and the sheer power behind each strike, were enough to make him consider fleeing.
It was just a passing thought, however. He knew that if he did, he would hate himself and lose a big part of what made him who he was now. And he wouldn’t abandon a Sanctuary of hundreds, and Mayra, just because of fear. Fear of strong opponents was not something Alan knew anymore. On the contrary. Strong opponents were what he needed. Only through a proper challenge, he would find growth!
He would not run away from such an opportunity. He was not like Rust and he didn’t want to trample on the weak. Alan wanted to conquer the strong and rise above them.
The human traitor stood in place, watching the combat unfold with gleaming eyes as the fight moved further and further away from him. Despite the control he was obviously under, there was something crafty behind those eyes… The enemy of my enemy, huh, you bastard? You’ve chosen the wrong motherfucker.
Alan forced his mind into focus. Now was not the time to think of that scum. Or perhaps…
[Internal Mana Boost] was operating like never before, and Alan could almost hear the buzzing of mana as it fled through his veins and fueled his flesh and bone. He was a blur of shadows that dodged left and right, with two golden figures following close. His [Shepherd’s Shroud] unfurled like a cloud of darkness that moved along with him and Alan made sure to leave tiny shadow constructs everywhere he passed during the frantic dodging.
He needed to get rid of the delay of [Dark Step] to be able to counterattack and get back some of the momentum. The one he had hit with [Consuming Dark] seemed a bit worse for wear, but the tiny fissures on his golden carapace were already gone. Sealed by some sort of liquid. Their blood? A skill?
Soon enough the field below the walls was covered in shadows and Alan shifted to the furthest one. The two insectoids didn’t follow along this time as the gap became quite large in an instant. Their skill, even if it was as good as [Dark Step] was shorter in range. However, they seemed able to use it mid-attack, which was annoying as hell.
[First Pahtfinder] allowed him to sense their movements before they were complete. Without it, he would’ve been destroyed.
Alan took a breath as shadows wrapped around Rust, who had tried to flee. Bindings of darkness, with four shadow figures holding them and pulling. A wave of will that wanted to break and consume all that made Rust an individual. [Chains of the Dark Servants] was a peculiar skill, especially when Alan fed it a ton of life force. Something he seldom did.
Another [Dark Step] and the two were standing next to each other.
Rust screamed, obviously surprised by the attack. He looked duller than before. Slower. Perhaps the two insect bastards had disabled him in some way. Alan noted the golden glow from the line on his forehead and how it seemed to suppress something. What a fool.
He had decided to take care of the wild card just in case. Rust had seen his skills before, and some of those infected by his strange mutagen had died under Alan’s hand. The way the improved [Dark Step] worked could be countered very easily by those capable of finer mana control, or even manifestation of their will. The tiny slivers of shadows Alan used as anchors were weak, defenseless, and easy to disperse. He didn’t need a crazy bastard running around putting him at risk.
Without so much as a word, he pressed his palm on Rust’s head and cast [Curse of Buried Shadows]. The insectoids were looking at everything with curiosity. Their many eyes were tiny dots that didn’t betray thought or scheme. Just observers. Soulless and cold.
I’ll get to you later. I know you won’t die from this. For now, suffer the weight of your sins… and I’ll deal with your new friends. I wonder if they have any sins to relive.
Alan doubted his curse would work on the insectoid aliens. Everything, no matter how bare the information was, pointed toward them being fully and utterly devoted and servile to something else. Would fanatics have regrets? Bonez did, but Bonez had been a slave more than he was a fanatic. When would conviction manage to counter Alan’s vile inherited skill? It was an interesting question.
“With that out of the way,” Alan said, allowing the full weight of his will and mana to crush the surroundings and bleed them of all color, “let’s see what you motherfuckers have in store for me.”
The two answered by brandishing their skills as one, in perfect sync, then quickly narrowing the distance. Alan waited for them this time around. His dark servants, now holding in their bodies made of darkness a breath of life, moved too. Tendrils-like whips shot out binding one of the enemies as he reappeared in a burst of golden mana.
Alan bombarded the other. [Consuming Dark] was a tiny black hole and the golden carapace twisted strangely to resist the pull and consumption the skill was capable of. That didn’t matter to Alan as shadow blade after shadow blade rained along with more and more of the tiny black holes. They didn’t do much, but they were infused with his will so they felt much more dangerous than they were.
For once, the insectoid was on the defensive.
His dark servants successfully bound the other, and Alan felt his will penetrate through the golden carapace and then halt. A spark of something else lurked beneath the armor fused with flesh. The same spark that had almost extinguished his mind during the previous experiment. He was not foolish enough to allow that again.
The bound insectoid suddenly burst with golden light and Alan took a sharp breath as he felt his shadows give under the illumination. That was unexpected, but then again, he didn’t know a thing about their abilities. The light was a byproduct of a buff as far as he could tell, and it had proved a gnarly weapon against the chains binding his opponent. They still held, but it wouldn’t be long before the life force and the mana were burned away.
It would be enough.
Alan laughed madly as he got closer to his current enemy, but not close enough for it to reach him. He was not stupid to think he had a chance in a clash of swords. The brief training Zirida had given him was not nearly enough to place him on the same level as the four-armed alien monstrosity before him.
His attacks kept falling like rain and the insectoid had no option but to defend with all of its weapons. As Alan unleashed one last [Consuming Dark] coupled with a second [Spirit Devour] – the latter serving almost like a stun – he cast [Dark Step] again.
He reappeared next to the second enemy who was still struggling against the chains, and whose size seemed to have doubled. The light was irritating, but it didn’t affect him as much as it affected his dark servants and their bindings. Slowly, as if careful not to ruin a painting he had drawn for hours, Alan cut apart the air with his dagger. It was mere seconds, but felt like much longer.
[Severing Mana] was a skill inspired by [Hateful Mist Cut] but it was its own thing entirely. As the line was finished, the surroundings trembled and a wave of power split the air. Alan let the [Chains of the Dark Servants] fall apart and allowed whatever lifeforce remained to return to him. He didn’t want to waste any more of the life force he had stolen from Bob the Immortal on them for now.
The insectoid gave out a gnarly wail as its body split almost in two, from shoulder to groin. Alan grinned and was about to dodge the other alien who was already upon him when the blood spurted out of his mouth.
His eyes widened and a curse died on his lips as he choked on something. Two swords had pierced him. One in the chest, the other in the stomach between the ribs. The alien fell, and light-colored ooze dripped from its wounds, but the attacks persisted. Weak. Infuriatingly determined. Unceasing. Like a squashed ant that still tried to struggle for its duty.
Frantic, Alan disappeared and reappeared much further away, before falling to one knee. He had mere seconds before the other one was upon him. Allowing himself to be wounded like this was a grave mistake. The actual wounds were not serious for someone with his body, but there was something else to them. Something like poison, but not quite. His mana surged toward his wounds and consumed the strange foreign energy trying to obliterate his insides.
Alan was almost too slow in reacting when the unhurt insectoid reached him. He managed to move away in time, barely and threw a half-hearted shadow slash toward it. A blade still found his forearm and sank deep, only to stop at the bone.
Once again Alan was forced to be on the defensive as he tried to rid his body of whatever it was that was raging inside him. It felt like a ball of fire trying to wreck him. He suffered shallow cuts, but that was fine. The energy inside them only reached skin-deep and was easily repelled. The one inside worried him.
There was no System message either, which meant the second insectoid was still living. Taking care of that was paramount. He didn’t know how much they could heal. The wound was grave for a human, but they were not human.
It was a whole minute later—a minute filled with running and dodging— that Alan managed to rid himself of most of the invading force and returned attacks once again. Shadow limbs burst out from around him, seemingly swimming out of the [Shepherd’s Shroud] itself, and from them, he unleashed shadow slash after shadow slash.
They were even weaker because the phantom limbs were not that great at channeling mana in a way that allowed its easy release, but it was something.
The attacks caught the insectoid off-guard and it defended despite probably being able to tank them head-on, and Alan [Dark Stepped] behind. [Spirit Devour] made the bastard freeze, but attacks on the psyche seemed less than effective on the aliens. Could it be a hive mind? It didn’t matter. A second was more than enough for someone on their level.
Alan’s daggers, coated in his will and active enchantments, sank into the carapace and then stopped. He cursed and let go of both as the blades of the insectoid almost took his head and heart.
I can’t cut them without a skill? Fuck!
The insectoid didn’t follow. Two of the hands twirled oddly in their sockets and reached for the daggers, only to pull them out and drop them to the ground. Alan grinned at it.
“Nice trick.”
He reappeared back next to the one he had almost halved and dodged a weak attack coming from it. There was goo connecting the two parts of the body, as it was trying to glue itself together. Disgusting. The other was too far, but [First Pathfinder] warned him that there was no time to observe.
Without hesitation, Alan used [Pilfered Life Ignition] to fuel a cast [Consuming Dark] on top of the wound. The skill was slower to go off, but many times stronger.
It was a black hole filled with the glowing red light of a burning life force. It shredded carapace, flesh, and all else, swallowing it into an invisible maw piece by piece.
Finally, a system message announced that there was only one enemy left. Alan didn’t have time to read it as he welcomed the attacks of the four-armed being with eight limbs of his own. His wounds were hurting, but a little pain never stopped him, and as long as the destructive energy was kept away, he was now safe. At least he hoped so.
The remaining insectoid started glowing just like its brethren had.
It was time to learn and take all he could from his enemy.
Comments
Themo Grulld
Thank you for the chapter
