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Chapter 147 - TFF
🕑 Added 2024-04-09 10:25:27 +0000 UTCAlan tried to follow behind Kalyntha. It was quite easy as she floated above and was one of the few who could fly. He hadn’t considered trying to create wings with [Shadow Creation] before now, but flying seemed awesome. Still, he decided to wait a bit as it seemed like it would be quite the challenge.
Wilbis and his barrier-slinging opponent were fighting in the clouds, and the dangerous gleams of the formation holding the whole fractal together made the rest of the battle seem dull in comparison. Alan felt like someone trying to go about your day while the world was threatening to collapse on top of him. Not that regular people’s days included so much murder and destruction.
Still, his heart was pounding. He was about to clash with a tier two, and it would be a lie to say that he was not excited about it. Tier two was the next great step in his journey and he was getting very close to it. He wanted to know what the step-up meant. How large was the gap of power? Levels were obviously not everything, as even now so close to the limit Kalyntha, who was just a copy of her original self, could kick his ass to hell and back. He couldn’t imagine any of his skills working on her, even his curses which he considered the strangest and strongest.
How do you emotionally destroy a copy? Did she even have traumatic memories?
Too bad the so-called [Blackguard] had stolen his levels. The spatial mage or whatever they were was strong and would’ve brought along quite a few levels. It felt just a tad wrong to think of living sentient beings as levels, but Alan wasn’t about to judge himself too harshly. Strict morals had a time and place, and a System apocalypse was neither the time nor the place.
There was another thing too. He couldn’t sense the bindings he had used to wrap around the robed person who had come to help, slinging water balloons and steam. Alan had cut the person’s arm and left him bound somewhere. No matter, that one had been weak.
Xil kept monologuing in his head. It had been awfully noisy inside lately. “I mean, you should really consider changing classes when you tier up. I wonder if there’s a [Fuck Up] class. What do you think?”
“Why don’t you shove it, man? I’m about to have a hard enough time without your bullshit in my head.” Alan responded. The demon’s presence was comforting as always.
The shadows kept their constant mutterings around him, but at least he couldn’t understand if they were mocking him or just echoing conversations long past.
“You’re technically supposed to be dead, so don’t mouth off. How about [Dicktim]. ‘Cause you’re a goddamn dick, and you somehow always put yourself in the place of a victim. Ha!”
“Fuck off.”
Alan didn’t tune him out despite it all. Xil was useful, and he would need each advantage he could grab in what was to come, even if Kalyntha were going to do most of the heavy lifting.
He passed many mutilated bodies. Guards and robed bastards alike. The invaders, as he called them to himself, seemed to act almost as if they considered themselves disposable. Like they didn’t value their lives as much. Sure, some did like his last enemy, but most were just… there to die. A meat wall. Feyrith had called them skinwalkers, and maybe it was part of their culture or something. He didn’t want to judge before getting the whole picture. It was a new universe filled with wonder and bullshit after all. There were bound to be many strange races around the Realm.
They approached the sleeping dragon. It was even more massive up close, but Alan tried to keep his attention on the one floating above. The new tier two that had appeared didn’t seem in a hurry or worried that his underlings were being pushed back. All of those around him moved away as if guided by invisible hands before two small wooden puppets appeared before him. His robe was long gone to reveal a skinny person who looked more human than the rest. His goatee was perfectly shaped and his hands were raised as if he was about to conduct an orchestra. His clothes were immaculate, making Alan aware of the mess he had once again become.
The puppets moved at the same time. One flew in the air and met the first two orbs that had flown from Kalynth’s swarm, swatting them away.
Fucking puppets. I’m tired of puppets!
Alan had hoped to remain unnoticed and use his [Chains of the Dark Servants] or something to disrupt the tier two enemy, but it seemed it wasn’t what the person had in mind. The doll was unlike those of the fractal. It was crude as if made by a child who had just begun learning woodwork. And it was small like a child too.
It simply looked weak.
Alan’s opinion changed in an instant as the doll fell far before him, and swung funnily with it is misshaped fists. He frowned.
The fists seemed to transcend time and space and their weight made him buckle and retreat, struggling to keep his balance. They hit [Monochrome Armor], forcing the shadows around Alan undulate like water disrupted by a falling stone, until seconds later they were broken.
He fled, fast, but the fists kept coming. Once again [First Pathfinder] appeared to be the answer to his situation as it was the only skill making him aware of the strange attacks. Why did it have to be space again?! The doll remained in its original position, comically swinging its limbs that were no more than unsightly pieces of wood.
“What is this thing?!” he yelled.
“Some fucked up bullshit. It smells of void, but it ain't. Look at steel girl.” Xil responded having assumed the question was for him. The demon ceased his mocking the moment the attack began.
Alan did just that, barely managing to dodge another barrage with his speed. Kalyntha was dealing with two of the dolls now, a third having appeared. Her swarm of steel orbs wasn’t making much progress, but she wasn’t as hard-pressed as Alan either. The one controlling it all hadn’t even moved from his original position. The man seemed almost bored!
Alan cursed again and poured mana into his armor. The shadows swirled, their angry whispers an ever-present background to the shattering space that came for him. The wooden child-like doll finally stopped and took a step forward. It was nothing more than a single foot, going in front of the other, but Alan expected something else – an even more vicious attack perhaps – so he ran.
When no such thing came, and the doll took another weak step, guided by its invisible strings, he cursed. He was supposed to support Kalyntha, not run away in panic because a doll stepped forward! At least it gave him an idea of the thing’s range. It was hard to determine with precision, but it was slowly moving forward without attacking now. Alan waited patiently, ready to move at the slightest sense that something was wrong.
He couldn’t help but glance toward the [Blackguard]. The man was gone. A jolt passed through his body as he felt a sudden phantom sense of danger. If he went back on his word, then all would die. Undoubtedly.
Soon the doll struck again, and Alan fled again. The process repeated a few times until he was sure he had an idea of its range. His shadow slashes did little as they were shattered without care as soon as he let them fly. He had assumed that his boosted attributes would at least even the playing field a little bit, but that didn’t seem to be the case even against the… minion of tier two.
The one pulling its strings didn’t seem to care as his attention was focused back on the dragon below. At the very same time, his hands were directing the dolls and pushing both Kalyntha and Alan back.
Kalyntha’s curses echoed around the battlefield. She was angry, very angry. Alan agreed with her. The bastard was not treating them with the proper respect! He was angry too, although it seemed like a futile emotion for the situation. He was still on the bottom of the food chain, but he was a scion and the shadows demanded him to act like it. There was a newfound sense of pride inside of him that refused to be treated as an afterthought.
It was a new feeling. Not that he personally cared how he was seen, but there seemed to be certain hangups in his mind since his transformation. As if his actions and his image affected more than his own self.
The racial change had brought along subtle changes, and the battle was revealing more and more of them, some of which Alan wasn’t sure he liked. However, he knew they were there to stay. It was still many times better than what he had been before.
The small wooden doll stepped forward again and its flimsy hands became a blur. Alan prepared to dodge when he heard a scream and saw a guard near him turn into a bloody paste as the fist found the side of his head, and the ones that followed made a bloody mess of the man’s body.
Shit. I’ve retreated too far.
Alan gritted his teeth and opted to attack. He wasn’t about to use others as meat shields. He tried to dodge the strange attacks and use his speed to his advantage, but the fists were like hail that didn’t stop. In comparison, the movements of the wooden thing were almost comical. Mocking.
The shadows were a constant barrier protecting his body as mana poured out of him to recharge [Monochrome Armor] like never before. There were gaps between the attacks which he managed to create by sending off shadow blade after shadow blade, but they were short-lived.
An explosion rocked the world nearby as Byrr’s form suddenly appeared from the doll’s side, as if he was a fast-growing tree, at the same time as Alan was occupying most of its attention. The tier two in the sky didn’t seem to have noticed, so the doll simply continued attacking Alan with abandon.
Byrr swung with his mace, bathed in green light. Alan grinned. Good man. I’ll buy you a beer!
There was a flash and a sound of breaking. Something shattered as a wooden hand flew to the side. However, that was not all.
Alan’s eyes widened as there was now a fist-sized hole in the guard’s body, right where a human’s heart was supposed to be. Byrr’s eyes grew wide and he took a few steps backward, swaying as blood poured out of the wound.
Someone screamed and three insect-like creatures made of sharp limbs and blades almost materialized out of thin air next to the small one-handed doll. Their attacks chipped the wood, and Alan soon joined them. The rage inside him was a wave threatening to consume both him and the shadows around him.
They were raging again, fueled by his own emotions. There was no color in the world as his daggers hacked and slashed and stabbed, bleeding darkness and rage. He felt like a woodchopper.
Soon, the doll was but pieces of wood on the ground, and Alan rushed toward Byrr to see if he could help. Feyrith was already there, holding him and pouring some sort of liquid on the wound out of a vial.
“Something is preventing him from healing!” the elf said. There was desperation unlike any in his eyes. Alan remained vigilant as his thoughts went in a thousand different directions, but no more attacks came. Kalyntha was still struggling in the sky as her orbs of steel shattered and reformed only to shatter again under the assault of the two small dolls. They seemed worse for wear now, so she had managed to inflict some damage after all.
“Take him away from here,” Alan said, “It’s too dangerous. Find Zirida, she might be able to help.”
Feyrith’s eyes focused and he nodded. Without a word, the elf picked up his large companion’s bloody body and fled.
“There’s still a chance. The man has insane life force.” Xil said in his mind. The demon could be oddly compassionate when he chose so, and Alan took a deep breath. He had no time to worry.
He became a blur once again. As it stood, he was going to reach the dragon before he would be able to do anything to the man in the sky. The tier two seemed to sense it as he turned his head, throwing a side glance at Alan. Then, he resumed what he was doing – namely staring at the dragon, or something behind it.
Is that what I’m worth? Just a side-eye?! Motherfucker!
Somewhere behind he heard a loud scream, making his heart leap. It sounded oddly close to Zirida’s voice, but it was filled with pain and inhuman amounts of anger. He doubted she would react like that if Byrr had died.
Then, he felt it. The flow of mana is unlike anything before. It was carrying something both familiar yet so foreign and massive that he felt his strange sense would be the end of him. Thankfully, he could tune it out. Whatever was happening still made the air tremble as if there was a heat wave.
Something was going on the other side of the dragon, and if he was being ignored, he would go and ruin someone’s day. He hoped no one was paying attention to him, and that Kalyntha would be fine. And he also hoped he wouldn’t instantly die after doing whatever he was about to do.
“Time to go silent,” Alan said in his mind, deciding on his course of action. Instantly the demon’s skill washed the world around in silence. Then Florence’s long-forgotten ring came into effect too, helping him blend further into the surroundings.
The shadow voices all around whispered in excitement.
Comments
Octaeon
Oh, he's gonna disrupt the bloodline stealing ritual somehow and get the bloodline, isn't he? Even if the dragon doesn't die, I'm pretty sure Alan is gonna get at least a trace of a bloodline from the situation. And given how the Dragon Throne has been described, he's gonna be in deeeeeeep shit, to the point he'll wish he was the guy in that example during the introduction of the Dragon Throne XD
bauspar
Is he going to do what I think he is? No right? That’d be crazy. Right? He wouldn’t. But it would be so epic. Anyway, I’m excited to see what you cook up LW. Thanks for the great chapter!
