The Conciege
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August Intruder- Chapter 80- You Are Not Worthy
🕑 Added 2024-09-21 21:38:08 +0000 UTCThere were probably a thousand rules it was almost breaking, but Veebee wasn’t sure it could bring itself to care. For one, it was helping, for another, it was having fun.
It looked at the interface in front of it once more before turning its head to the side.
At the other end of this part of the path between worlds two of the sentients that had come in with the Oath of Madness sat on the ground, refusing to finally exit the portal. A man and a woman.
They looked, from Veebee’s experience watching sentients come and go, worried.
They were unimportant so Veebee ignored them.
[Would you like to update personal Quest for Jude?]
[Y/N]
Jude had been a thorn in the side of Veebee’s sapient for so long that it had been all Veebee could do not go in there itself and do something about it. So when Jude had tried to leave, it had skirted the rules a bit, made sure that the thing couldn’t leave.
Veebee would’ve loved to eat the sentient called Jude but somehow it felt a death within the ruins of Caldath would be a more fitting experience for him. So, it had kept him there, guided him to suffer.
Then Jude had made his way into the final stage and had just sat in the corner like one of the worst things to ever be alive. Even void beasts understood the concept of cowardice. It was poor and sad and generally looked down on.
You fight until there is no more fight left in you, Veebee thought. Then you fight some more. Even when all the odds are against you.
By its calculations, Melmarc was a child by the standards of his species and Jude an adult. Yet, Melmarc had been more of what an adult should be than Jude had been so far.
Update quest, Veebee thought.
Just as the others had motivated themselves to help Melmarc, Veebee was going to motivate Jude to help Melmarc. It was only right.
[Quest Update]
[New Quest Detected for Jude]
[New Quest- The Way Back Home]
You have been locked in a world beyond your sentient ken. In order to make your way out, you must assist in the defeat of the Demi-god, Caldath. Failure to do so will result in an inability to leave the ruins of Caldath.
[Objective: Assist in the defeat of Caldath]
[Reward: Exit Portal]
[Bonus Objective: Deal the decisive blow that slays Caldath]
[Reward: +5% Mastery to any skill of your choice]
The bonus objective was Veebee’s own personal touch. A very unfair one by its standards. In fact, it was so unfair that it could be called unjust. But Veebee cared nothing for cowardice. There was even a possibility that it would get into trouble for doing this. But it was a void beast and would be judged by void beasts. They would understand the need to punish a coward.
Veebee would survive whatever punishment.
But that was if Jude chose to seek the reward for the bonus objective. If he did, then that would be greed. Greed would be his downfall. After all, there was a reason simple Sentients were never given the task of facing creatures like Demi-gods and Demon Kings and Archs and Blights and Voiders and the like.
There was a reason you did not send a sentient to do a Sapient’s job.
Veebee looked aside once more. The Sentients were still talking. They spoke in whispers, but Veebee didn’t like the fact that they had to remain here with it. Sadly, it couldn’t force them to leave, not when the portal wasn’t collapsing.
Besides, the only method it could use to make them leave was to convince them to leave. It almost bristled at the very thought of it. Talking to a Sentient without an interface’s command was beneath it, it didn’t matter the reason.
So it stood there, hovering in the air, right in front of the next exit portal that may or may not open. It waited.
It had kept one of these Sentients from leaving. It wondered if the Sentient would finally find a way to leave the ruins of Caldath.
…
“Deoti, he’ll understand,” Fendor said, voice low in a whisper. “Trust me.”
Deoti didn’t look like she believed him. “You didn’t see the way I looked at him, Fen. He’ll hate me. I’m a terrible aunt.”
Fendor wanted to point out that she really wasn’t related to Mel by blood just for kicks, but he didn’t. No matter how much of a comedian a person was, there was a time for jokes and a time for seriousness. This was the time for the latter.
“Mel is a good kid,” he said. “If it’s explained to him, he’ll understand.”
“Understand that my dream has been for his dream to never come true?” Deorti scoffed. “What kind of person claims to love you and yet stand against your dream with every fiber of their being.”
“Love works in the strangest ways,” Fendor answered. “Loving you does not mean that I should pray for you to do everything you ever wanted. Support isn’t the only way love can be shown. Sometimes you can oppose someone for the mere reason that you love them. You know I’m right.”
She looked at him and her eyes were wet, rheumy. “He’s wanted to be a Delver all his life, Fen.”
“And we all know that.”
“And I wanted him to never be a Gifted. I wanted him to never know the blessing of skills and classes.”
“Because you never wanted him to know the wicked ways of our world.”
Deoti scoffed. This time, it sounded gravely derisory. Self-derisory. “Thanks for trying to make me sound like a good person but we both know that I am not, Fen. I didn’t even want him to have a class as simple as [Baker].”
Fendor almost let out a sigh. This, if he was being honest, was tiring. Deoti was often a mess when it came to matters involving the Boss’ family. Melmarc to be specific.
So, instead of telling her, he was going to guide her to realizing the truth. It was something Lisa tended to do quite often. Something therapist did a lot.
“And why didn’t you want him to gain any kind of class, Deoti?” he asked.
“Because I’m a shitty person.”
That much wasn’t really a lie. Deoti was shitty. She looked down on the [Enchanter] classes so badly that if they were a race, it would be completely and uncompromisingly racist. He knew how many times he’d had to stop her from going too far in her dislike of the class.
“I get that you think you’re a shitty person,” he began cautiously. “But let’s keep that aside for a moment and work with fact, just the way the Boss likes it, okay?”
Deoti paused for a moment before nodding.
“Now,” Fendore said. “Why didn’t you want him to get a class? And don’t pretend to think about it because I know you’ve already thought about it.”
Deoti looked down at the swirling clouds of deep blue that covered whatever ground they were currently sitting on. She almost looked conflicted.
Fendor knew that she had the answer. What was happening was simply her preparing herself to articulate it into words that she would hear.
Finally, she spoke. “I didn’t want it because he would find a way to use it and become a Delver. If he got the [Baker] class, he would join a Delving team as their cook or something. If he got the [Butler] class, he would join a Delving team as their butler. Mel is so enamored with being a Delver that nothing would stop him short of not having a skill.”
When she was done, she looked at Fendor once more. A drop of tears rolled down her left cheek.
“And now he suspects that I’m not happy with him being a Delver,” she said. “And now that he’s a Delver, he’ll have questions. He’ll ask questions. Questions lead to answers, Fen.” She buried her face in her hands. “What do I do?”
“You apologize.” It was as simple as that as far as Fen was concerned. “You apologize and hope for the best.”
“Hope,” Deoti said. “I don’t like banking on hope.”
Fendor could understand that. After all, he’d been banking on hope for a while now, hope that Deoti would see him as more than just that quirky and annoying teammate. That she would see him as something more. But none of it had happened. Hope had looked him dead in the eye and spat in his face.
So, now he was running out of hope and couldn’t wait to be done with it. Hope was for those that were not Delvers.
Deoti turned her attention back to the exit portal they had just walked through. “Do you think it will work this time?”
Fendor looked at it. His answer was always going to be the same. Unless the portal creature did something, they would not be able to go through the exit portal they had just come in through.
They had almost gone through the second portal at the other end when they had realized that the others were not behind them. As a team, they always ensured that everyone alive was inside the space between the portals before anyone stepped through the second portal.
When they’d noticed it, they’d stopped and turned back. The exit portal, however, had not allowed them to return through it. And the portal being had completely ignored them, standing off to the corner, staring at nothing.
Fendor shook his head. “You could try, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure that you won’t be able to push your way through.”
Deoti turned her attention to the portal being. “Do you think we can convince it?”
To that, Fendor snorted. “Good luck getting it to talk to us.”
So that sat there, feet buried in a cloud of swirling blue like the world around there. They waited, and hoped, and hoped some more. Whatever was happening within the portal was now beyond them.
Fendor couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so helpless.
But they would be fine. The rest of the team was there. Boss was there. If Boss’ presence did not ensure the safety of those that mattered, then nothing would.
Around them, the tunnel continued to swirl blue. It was chaotic in its order. It was like watching one of those smoke artists go to work. Twirling the smoke and moving it about. It was as if someone was moving it by themselves because sometimes, he would watch it swirling one way just for it to stop and swirl the next way. Or return in reverse.
It was, in a way, mesmerizing to watch. Fendor came to a sudden realization. He’d never been in a portal that did this before. The smoke and the clouds were not new, but the patterns were. They almost seemed alive.
“How bad do you think it is?” Deoti asked.
“They are probably trying to clear out all the monsters,” he answered. “Maybe they changed their minds, and Boss has decided to give Mel some experience.”
“What of that hand?”
Fendor remembered the hand she was talking about. When they’d turned back in search of the others, a hand had slipped through the portal. It had been for a moment, a few contemplative seconds before being pulled back.
Fendor had no idea who had been.
A while after, while he and Deoti had been trying to push their way back into the ruins, another hand had poked through. Deoti had wanted to grab the hand, pull the person in, but Fendor had stopped her.
His argument had been that there might have been some kind of conversation going on. Not a moment later, the had had retrieved itself back.
Deoti had been so worried about Melmarc being stuck in the portal that for a moment she had been telling herself a lot of things, talking herself into calmness.
It had taken a lot of convincing from Fendor for her to calm down.
As for them sitting on the ground and waiting, that had been Deoti’s idea. Once a portal was cleared, this path would slowly begin crumbling. It would not be instantaneous, but there would be signs.
Right now, there was none. So, it meant that there were more tasks to be accomplished within the portal. Tasks that the others were probably considering doing. It was the only explanation that made sense.
Unless, Boss has decided to look for Caldath, Fendor thought. Yet, he didn’t believe so. Their Boss was a lot of possible things, but he would never do anything to put his family in jeopardy. If he had decided to take on Caldath, he would’ve sent Melmarc into the portal already.
But there was really no point in thinking about it.
Once this place started collapsing, Fendor and Deoti would have no other choice but to go through, return to their world.
Until then, they could only wait.
…
Melmarc shook his head, discarded his momentary enthrallment. He had bigger issues to deal with.
[Would you like to use EP]
[Y/N]
Caldath stood ahead of him, sword stabbed into the ground and spear in hand. His aura, brimming red like boiling blood in a witch’s cauldron, remained about him, a mantle of devastation, staining his golden blood crimson.
[What would you like to affect?]
[Skill? Stats? Optimum Existence?]
Everything was moving quickly, his interface responding with the speed of thought. Yet, it felt so terribly slow. Why hadn’t he just done all this before entering this place? The answer was simple, he hadn’t known what specifically he would’ve needed.
He knew he wouldn’t have put it into skill or [Optimum Existence] but he hadn’t known what stats would be important. He’d thought he would have the time to think. Now, he realized just how stupid that idea had been.
[EP 1256]
[1 stat point = 200 EP]
[1% Mastery = 250 EP]
Melmarc had six stat points to work with.
Caldath did not level his spear as the world sang around them, their dying cacophony a terrible discordance in Melmarc’s ears. He simply stood, as if he was waiting. Melmarc knew that the demi-god was not. Whatever he had done to gather his mantle and strength around him, was what left him unable to attack.
Melmarc needed strength. That much he knew. So he put two points into strength.
[Strength 3(+3) -- > 5(+3)]
He put two into speed. He would be stupid to believe that he didn’t need speed.
[Speed (+3) -- > 2(+3)]
What else do I nee—
“Incoming!” Naymond roared.
Something flared in Melmarc’s view. It was nothing more than a blip, almost missed. It was so fast that Melmarc barely moved in reaction to it. A line of pain flared in his neck, strong and terrible. Deep, too.
Melmarc felt something warm trickle down his neck just as someone in the background cried out in pain.
“Fuck!” Nelson cried in the background. “Don’t do this to us Claire! Please no!”
Fear threatened to cease Melmarc’s heart. Caldath hadn’t even moved. Yet its skull head seemed to smile at him in mockery. Its spear glowed a soft red in its hand.
“You barely survived,” it said with a touch of amusement. “You didn’t strike me as the kind to survive such an attack.”
Melmarc’s breaths were coming fast, and he added two more points into speed so that it became four points instead of two.
I almost died.
The thought reverberated in his head. He’d almost died before, but he’d never come this close. It had never felt this certain.
Worse, with the wailing behind him, he feared to look back. Whatever attack Caldath had intended for him had hit someone else. Melmarc knew who it was. It was more reason why he couldn’t look back.
Finally, Caldath moved. He leveled his spear at Melmarc and said, “Come, being. Show me what existence has brought to me.”
From the list of skills [Knowledge is Power] had brought to him, Melmarc selected the one he felt would be strongest.
[Would you like to use Call of The Wild You will not be able to renege on this decision?]
[Yes/No.]
…
[You have selected Call of The Wild.]
[Call of The Wild (Mastery 4.90%)
The Gifted calls from the depths of their being affecting the world around it as they choose.
Caldath moved. He dashed forward with terrifying speed and Melmarc activated his new skill. His body reacted as he did. It knew what was expected of it. He took a single powerful step forward, hit the ground with all his will, and roared.
[You have used skill Call of The Wild]
Caldath’s footing seized up beneath it and it almost stumbled. It wasn’t that the creature’s feet had simply stopped working. It was more as if the thing’s entire body stiffened for the briefest moment.
It broke its rhythm, threw its cadence off.
Melmarc capitalized immediately, his mind and body acting even before his thoughts were complete on what exactly was happening.
[You have used skill Rings of Saturn]
[Remaining uses: 3/4]
The ring of mana shot forward, thrown from his hand like a discus. Caldath staggered forward and raised his spear to take the blow. There was a touch of panic in the action. It wasn’t as precise or confident.
The ring of mana struck the haft of its spear and Caldath turned the ring aside with an obvious show of strength. Melmarc took notice of it once more. The creature was weak to pure mana.
He threw another and Caldath ducked it, allowing it blow into the air. Melmarc frowned at that. That was a wasted ring.
He needed to be more calculative. In the distance Faili looked like he refused to be out of the battle. Melmarc could see the lycanthrope struggling to rise to its feet even with all the blood dripping from its countless injuries.
“Incoming!” Naymond shouted as Caldath raised its spear, point to the ceiling.
The cacophony of songs and hymns that grated at Melmarc continued, giving them an accompaniment in their battle. It was loud and symphonic in its madness. Like a thousand off key choristers singing their parts in a perfectly discordant rhythm.
Melmarc didn’t need anyone to tell him that this was the song of the damned. Souls that had given up. Souls that would never be more than the less they had become.
Melmarc moved, hoping to be faster than Caldath.
[You have used skill Secrecy]
[Uses remaining 2/4]
He saw its range, a hollow and translucent blue. It was a dome that would encompass Caldath and more. And he threw it, all the force he could muster buried into the single action.
The ring of mana struck the ground just in front Caldath’s feet as its spear brightened in its red. Then the skill activated.
The spear let out terrible sparks of red, activating at the same time that [Secrecy] did. Caldath turned to look at the weapon in momentary shock before its eyes turned down to where the ring of mana had been only a moment ago.
“You—”
Whatever it had to say died on its lips at what it saw.
Melmarc had trusted his skill, acted on it. Even if whatever Caldath had been trying to do had come to fruition before [Secrecy] activated, Melmarc believed that the simple act of the skill activating would still deactivate whatever skill it was.
So, the moment [Secrecy] had hit the ground, he’d moved.
Now, Caldath found himself being charged by six feet and possibly four inches sixteen-year-old boy with rings of raw mana wrapped around his hands. It was nothing compared to the creature’s near eight feet of height.
The weight on Melmarc’s hands were there and he rushed forward, but they were not as heavy as he remembered. Not as heavy as he thought the rings of mana he’d summoned would be. In the blink of an eye, he was already skidding to a stop in front of Caldath.
Now they both stood within the domain of [Secrecy].
Since the beginning of this fight, they had been struggling within Caldath’s domain, but now it was different. As small as it was in comparison, [Secrecy] was Melmarc’s.
And in this moment, they were in Melmarc’s domain.
Caldath spun its spear with lightning speed, angered to great levels. The point of the spear struck downwards, lightning fast. Melmarc took a boxer’s stance and weaved to the side. With how quickly he had gotten here and come to a stop, his legs would not react on time. He knew this, so he weaved his body, rolled it to the side.
The spear missed him and tore a gash in his thigh. Pain flared in Melmarc’s mind, threatened to undo him. He refused to let it. Receiving so much pain from the safety of [Knowledge is Power] had made something else of him.
Gritting his teeth so hard that a dentist would pale at the sight, he rolled his torso once more, just as he’d been taught for so many years now, and threw a power right hook. It slammed into Caldath, a powerful body blow.
It was like throwing an uppercut from the side.
The sound of contact was like a muffled cannon. It reverberated throughout the confines of [Secrecy]. Pain flared in Melmarc’s fist, but he allowed it take none of his attention. Instead, he let it wash over him.
His fist bounced off of Caldath’s body while the body blow staggered the creature. Melmarc thought he heard a gasp but couldn’t really be quite sure.
It didn’t matter. There would be no time to think. He was going to burn bright and burn fast. This would not be a drawn-out battle. He would work fast and keep Caldath’s attention on no other person but him.
Grab it!
Just as quickly as the thought came, his other hand shot out. Its fingers took purchase within the crevice of Caldath’s armor, a chink just between its upper armor, near its waist. The moment his fingers took purchase, Caldath jumped back.
To Melmarc’s surprise, the creature left the ground, his muscles tightened to the point of pain, and he brought it back down.
Shoulder throw!
Power Slam!
Punish it!
Melmarc rolled his shoulder into the attack. He turned with all his strength and punched it in the stomach.
This time when the echo of impact exploded, he heard the groan slip from Caldath. Then the spear turned again but didn’t attack. Melmarc’s eyes moved about, constantly cataloguing. It sought out weaknesses as easily as it sought out strength and Caldath’s health just below its indicator.
Above!
Duck!
Take it like a beast! Show it fear!
The thoughts were all his, thoughts that would usually be buried within the recesses of his minds. They were the thoughts you had when your bully stood in front of you, but you were too scared of the repercussions that would come from acting. They were the thoughts that would as easily put you in trouble as they might get you out of them.
Melmarc threw his head forward. Releasing Caldath, he threw his head straight into the creature’s stomach.
His head rang on impact. A powerful headache took a hold of Melmarc even as he realized how stupid his action had been. Still, it helped to destabilize Caldath. The creature didn’t stagger once more, but its blow never completed its trajectory.
Behind it Faili was back on his feet. Blood adorned him and he had a feral look on his face.
“Power Blow!” Naymond shouted.
Where? When?
Dodge!
Roar!
Take it!
Fight Back!
Melmarc turned his head skyward, straight into the raised hand. His mouth opened wide in something inhuman.
[You have used skill Call of The Wild]
A roar shook the entire room even though it was focused on Caldath.
Caldath’s fist seized up as its body had once before. Melmarc capitalized on the opportunity and swung a vicious kick into one of its legs. As his leg moved, he took advantage of the momentum, and his interface lit up.
[You have used skill Rings of Saturn]
[Remaining uses: 3/4]
A ring of mana appeared around his ankle. Its weight threatened to pull Melnarc’s foot down. It slowed the momentum of the kick but did not stop it. Melmarc’s leg slammed into Caldath’s in a vicious strike that swept the foot off the ground.
It destabilized the creature and it staggered to the side. Melmarc allowed it. They were no longer confined to a single space. The only advantage the creature could create was space. Melmarc wasn’t going to allow that.
As Caldath staggered, Melmarc rushed it.
[Secrecy] had run its course. Melmarc’s domain was done. But it did not mean he was so honorable a child that he would not spam it.
[You have used skill Secrecy]
[Remaining uses: 2/4]
The ring of mana hit the ground two steps behind Caldath. Melmarc saw the creature’s eyes follow the ring. He watched the creature try to stop itself from falling back.
There was honor in a duel, you gave your opponent a fighting chance and tried to best them at their best. It was common in a video game amongst friends. But this was not a duel, neither was it a video game.
With the weight of [Rings of Saturn] on his hands and one leg, Melmarc barreled into Caldath. He ran it into the domain with all the force he could muster as [Secrecy] exploded once more.
The both of them went down and to the ground. Melmarc scrambled for supremacy as they went down even if he was already on top.
Caldath’s spear shot forward at an odd angle. It was, from what Melmarc knew, its only real threat. As long as he kept [Secrecy] active, there would be no skill to worry about.
A [Faker] avoiding skills.
[Faker] classes around the world would laugh at him if they heard this. Melmarc didn’t care.
He moved at an odd angle just as the spear came. Refusing to relinquish his position on top of Caldath, there was not much he could do in evasion. Pain flared as the spear tore his side only partially avoided.
He couldn’t help the cry that slipped from his lips. But it didn’t stop him. With both hands raised over his head, he brought them down on Caldath’s torso.
The creature was so wide that Melmarc doubted both of his hands together were as wide as the thing’s heart. The blow echoed. Caldath gasped once more.
“You fight without honor!” it spat, golden blood spilling from its lips.
Once upon a time, Ark had made Melmarc watch a medieval movie about war. It had had a soldier who fought without honor. Once, at the end of a battle, he had been accused of fighting without honor. The man’s response had been simple.
“Look to the corpse that bathe the field,” he had said, “and ask them what gift honor has brought them.”
Melmarc hadn’t agreed with the idea then, but he believed he had understood it. But now he knew that he had been wrong then. He had understood the words, comprehended them and as such had felt he knew what they meant. He had not.
Now, however, fighting for his life, knowing that there was a very high chance that Claire was dead, slain by an attack that should’ve taken his life, he knew.
He understood.
Honor had its place. And this was not it. You only fought the honorable with honor when honor was on the line.
Melmarc scrambled up, bleeding, and threw a fist at Caldath’s face. The first of—
The ring of mana around it flickered, then died out as his fist struck the creature’s face. Without the ring of mana, a punch had become a slap.
A massive grin split Caldath’s face as it realized what had happened. As it felt the new weight of the blow.
“Honor has fled you,” it said with a widening grin, voice grating, commanding in the backdrop of that horrible hymn the walls of the room continued to sing. “Now it will guide me!”
Melmarc dove forward and threw an elbow into the thing’s massive head. It connected with its bony jaw and Caldath’s head bounced off the ground. The creature was silenced for a moment.
Melmarc threw three more, strikes he’d been taught were too devastating to use in any kind of sparring in his defense classes. Each blow struck Caldath in the jaw. Each time its head bounced against the ground, sending its jaw ricocheting into the next elbow.
With each strike, Melmarc could feel his elbow failing him. He couldn’t put in more power because each blow hurt him terribly. It was like striking a shotput with all his force.
[Secrecy] shattered around them and Melmarc wondered if it was just him or the skill had lived shorter than the one before it.
He didn’t care.
Rip its head off! His mind barked. Rip it off with your mouth!
Melmarc opened his mouth and dived forward. Why? He had no idea. He wanted to do it. He didn’t just want to slay Caldath, he wanted to decimate it. He wanted to ruin it. Crush it. He wanted to leave any who saw the outcome in fear.
But most importantly of all. He wanted to rip its head off with his teeth.
Caldath’s hand shot out of nowhere, straight for his head. Melmarc opened his mouth wider.
[You have used skill Call of The Wild]
Caldath’s hand seized, but only for a moment. Before Melmarc could do anything, the hand covered the remaining distance. It clamped around his head, large enough to cover it completely. Then it squeezed.
Melmarc was not going to die here. The moment pain filled his head, another skill came alive.
[You have used skill Knowledge is Power]
The pain did not stop. Melmarc did his best to hold on to his sanity and his consciousness as the pain filled his head.
Before long someone started screaming. It was loud and chaotic. Terrifying.
Melmarc tried to blurt it out as the pressure of the hand tightened around him and pain filled him. The scream grew louder. Something stabbed him in the stomach. His vision blotted out by the massive hand around his head, he didn’t know what it was.
All Melmarc knew was that it was painful. He needed to fight back. He needed to do something. Anything.
[You have used skill Secrecy]
[Remaining uses: 1/4]
The hand abandoned him quickly. The body beneath him moved in a frenzy, scrambling for to leave. It destabilized him.
The moment Melmarc’s sight returned to him, the pain fled him. It disappeared as if the madness had never been there. It only took Melmarc a moment to realize that the screaming had been so close and loud because it had been coming from him.
<<MOVE, CHILD!>>
The words came from behind Melmarc as he staggered back, thrown of Caldath’s body as the creature scrambled away from him. He tried to twist himself out of the way as he fell backwards. With one last act in his decent, he threw the ring of mana forward, aimed it with enough accuracy.
He felt his arm adjust itself as if it was an age-old muscle memory. The ring left him and embedded itself in Caldath’s chest.
Caldath’s hand shot up immediately, batting at it. For all its strength, nothing happened. The ring exploded in its chest. It created its domain with Caldath at the center and Melmarc watched a chunk of the grey bar above its head disappear.
There was barely twenty percent of what had been there remaining.
With the explosion, a chunk of Caldath’s chest amor was blown out, exposing a desiccated chest.
Faili fell on the creature with a vengeance. Its first attack was unfortunately a skill. Melmarc watched red lights trail along its claws before disappearing abruptly. Faili stood, flabbergasted for a moment.
Caldath capitalized on the moment of stunned confusion to slap the beast off it. Again, Faili was sent flying, soaring through the air to hit the ground. However, unlike before, he rose back to his feet quickly, growling in anger or maybe it was annoyance.
Melmarc was on his feet too and was already moving. When [Knowledge is Power] returned, hitting him, he gained no benefit. [Bless Your Kindness] did not activate.
[Skill Knowledge is Power is concluded]
[Skill Bless Your Kindness does not take effect]
The first thing he did as he ran, Faili following right behind him, was kick at the air. The ring of mana still around his ankle shot forward. Its weight had been disturbing his cadence and balance. Now that he was free of it, he ran better.
As for the ring, Caldath batted it aside with its spear. This time, its face was contorted in anger, unadulterated.
It leapt back, crossing enough space to pull it out of the confines of [Secrecy] and Melmarc knew they had lost the upper hand. What he and Faili needed to do now was focus the creature’s attention on only the two of them in order to keep the others alive.
“Go left!” he said to Faili, voice raised over the symphony of terrible hymn, hoping that the fact that it could understand him would not lead it to believe that he’d been able to understand it all along.
Faili changed its approach, darted out to the side. Caldath stamped the butt of its spear on the ground without taking its eyes off Melmarc.
The spear flickered as if trying to remain in reality and leave at the same time. The rubble rose around it from the ground. Melmarc knew the skill but didn’t know how to counter it. [Knowledge is Power] was done. Still on cool down, he couldn’t use it.
The rubble came together. Forged above Caldath’s head they were spikes ready to inflict pain, bring death. Melmarc easily counted twelve.
He kept running, keeping the creature’s attention on him. Faili was going at it from the other side. They would place the creature in a pincer attack if it let them.
Caldath raised a regal hand, unbothered. He pointed it at Melmarc. When he dropped it, the spears above it shot forward.
Melmarc hoped to God that the increase in speed would help. What use was the stats if they did nothing. But they did something.
The moment he stepped to the side, a spear shattered against the ground where he had pain. Pain seared in his leg from the injury Cakdath’s spear had inflicted on him. His thigh throbbed and so did his side. But he did not succumb. They slowed him but did not stop him.
He dodged again and another spear shattered. And he dodged. And dodged. And dodged.
Melmarc avoided over ten spears, moving and switching, staggering and stumbling. He was locked in place for the space of seconds that seemed like minutes.
But for all his speed, he wasn’t perfect. He was not a speedster. The One of the spears took him in the hand. It pierced through his palm and impaled itself to the ground. It traveled at least half way through his hand before stabbing into the ground.
Pinned down, Melmarc cried out in pain. It was not a metaphorical expression. It was not the grace of the hurt. It was not the pain of a hero in some fairy tale told where dragons were slain and demons were vanquished. No. It was the pain of a child. The unadulterated cry of a child experiencing true pain for the first time.
Unlike the pain he felt when under the protection of [Knowledge is Power], it did not come and go in an instant. It lingered and stayed. Ever growing. It screamed in his hand and battered at his brain. Tears streamed down his eyes, poured terribly.
Melmarc was a child, sixteen. This was no place for him. He wasn’t supposed to be fighting monsters and keeping people safe. He wasn’t supposed to be—
I won’t lie down and die!
Melmarc pulled himself forward and stepped to the side. The final spear missed his right shoulder by barely an inch and shattered against the ground.
All the spears had shattered except the one that had gone through his hand.
Why?
Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it was unnecessary. The why of it would not save him from it. What he needed to do now was escape. He couldn’t be pinned down.
Staying one place is choosing to die, he thought, tears streaming down his cheeks, snot threatening to fill his nose.
I won’t die here. He pulled his hand forward, tried to pull it up and out of the spear so that the spear would go through him. Pain exploded in his head, and he let out another cry. He abandoned the endeavor as quickly as dropping an object that was too hot.
Ahead of him, Faili was going another round with Caldath. He was losing. The lycanthrope was landing a few blows of its own, phasing in and out of reality just to appear in a third location. He used his clawed attack. He roared with what Melmarc assumed was [Call of The Wild]. He used a skill that made him grow slightly larger so that his muscles bulged even from beneath all his fur.
He battered Caldath with all his fury. He shaved more from the grey bar. He gave Caldath hell.
Caldath gave better than it got.
In the end, Faili lost as Caldath ran its spear through the lycanthrope’s chest. It impaled him through the chest and pinned him to the ground.
Faili struggled against his position on the ground, clawed at the spear in his chest, teeth snapping forward in defiance.
Tears still streaming from his eyes in his ever-growing pain, Melmarc found himself wondering how the lycanthrope could even afford to move so violently with a spear through his heart. The pain of a spear in Melmarc’s hand was already threatening to undo him. How he still remained unconscious was beyond him.
Caldath leaned down until its head came face to face with Faili’s. It was just out of reach to avoid being bitten off. If Caldath was worried about miscalculating the distance, it did not show it.
It looked into Faili’s eyes and uttered a single word.
“Weak.”
Then it ignored the lycanthrope. It stood back to its massive hieight then looked up at the bar still above its head. There was barely anything left of it.
“Pathetic,” it muttered in derision. “How weak I have become to almost be bested by a child and a mutt.”
It let out a sigh then. Around it, its bloody crimson aura was dissipating. Its golden stains of blood returned to their golden color, a sharp contrast against its crimson armor.
“I was great once,” Caldath muttered, turning its head in the direction of the others. “Powerful.”
Melmarc panicked.
Caldath was no longer brimming with power, and the symphony of the walls was dying out, slowly dwindling into nonexistence. Silence had almost returned to the room.
Still looking at the others, Caldath reached a hand for its spear. Again, Melmarc wanted to draw its attention back to him. Faili was still snapping and struggling but to no avail. As for Melmarc, it broke him to know that he couldn’t draw Caldath’s attention.
He wanted to scream and shout and roar. But the pain in his hand and side and thigh were a constant throbbing. They were a terrible thing. They demanded his attention, reminded him that death stared him in the face with a firm hand on his neck.
Despite all his will to keep the others alive, his fear of dying was proving stronger. His voice choked in his throat, and he failed to cry out—to draw Caldath’s attention.
Caldath’s hand stopped before it reached the spear. “Do not despair, boy. That fear you see, many greater than you have succumbed to it. Greater and older.”
It did not pick the spear up, instead, it flicked it with a finger. The spear fazed in and out of reality, flickering once, and pain exploded in Melmarc’s head.
He roared and cried as a translucent spear appeared right in front of him. It stabbed his foot, pinning him down to the ground.
“You’ve done what is expected from a child.” Caldath flicked the spear again and pain exploded once more as it impaled Melmarc’s second foot.
Melmarc wept.
For the first time in a while, he turned his head to look at the others. Nelson had Claire cradled in his arms. She was motionless, bleeding from her chest. Clinton was pale, too pale.
Naymond was on his knees, eyes empty and dazed. Blood spilled from his mouth.
Even holding onto Claire, Nelson was pale. He looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulder.
Melmarc wanted to be angry at them. He was about to die here yet Nelson and Jed just stayed there, staring ahead, silent.
Then it came to him. The symphony of the walls. The broken divinity his interface had been telling him about. He had only been able to function by his status as [August Intruder]. What if there was more to the skills than that? What if the others had never been meant to enter this room?
If all that was true, then Melmarc had led them to their deaths. That was not something he could live with.
There were too many emotions that could motivate a person. Just moments ago, fear of death had choked his cry in his throat and kept him from calling out to Caldath.
Now fear of leading everyone present to their deaths motivated him.
“YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” Melmarc roared at Caldath.
Caldath turned its face away from the others to look at him. “Are you finding your honor now, child?”
Melmarc had no answer. At least none in words. Instead, he chose defiance.
[You have used skill Call of The Wild]
It was stupid and useless. Even as the sound spilled from his lips, ripped from his throat, he knew it would do nothing.
As expected, Caldath’s entire body seized up for only a moment. The creature frowned. Its eyes narrowed slowly, and it flicked its spear with its finger one more time.
Pain exploded in Melmarc’s other hand. He didn’t need to look to know all his limbs had been impaled. Pinned to the ground.
Faili pulled itself up suddenly, almost pulling itself out of the spear. Caldath saw this and drove a fist into the lycanthrope’s face. It snatched its face up in its hand and uttered a single word. The word dripped with mockery.
“Weak.”
The next moment, as Melmarc dealt with his new pain, Caldath appeared in front of him.
“Be proud, child.” It held his face gently in its hand. “You have done something most in your place have failed to do. Most greater and older. Warriors. Be proud for, though you have no honor, you have done something great.”
Melmarc didn’t care.
“However, I cannot let you be,” Caldath continued. “In my world, once upon a time, I would’ve been kind and generous. I would’ve rewarded you for your bravery and achievement. I would’ve allowed you live, perhaps giving you a place amongst my ranks. But, alas, I cannot. After all, you wield that abominable mana like a mockery of divinity. It is disgusting. A weapon of a mortal too scared to be divine.”
It shook its head as if it was a solemn father talking to a child.
“I have not impaled you out of cruelty,” it continued. “Instead, I have taken your ability to use that power. My life hangs on a thread so I will not risk dying to something so disgraceful and dishonorable. Had you another skill, one that belonged to you, perhaps I would’ve fought this battle to the very end. But you do not.”
It spared a momentary glance at Naymond before returning its attention to Melmarc. “Your soldier tried to turn my skill against me and paid the price for his actions. Honorable, it was. Stupid, but honorable. In respect for you and his actions, I will allow those alive to leave this place as long as they vow to never return. But you must die.”
Melmarc raised his head to meet Caldath’s gaze. The creature’s eyes were empty, void of emotion, yet its voice brimmed with honesty.
The fight was not out of Melmarc, though. Caldath’s honesty be damned, he wasn’t going to just lie down and die. He wasn’t a sacrifice. He was not here by choice, so death was not a consequence he was supposed to bear with whatever honor Caldath was so obsessed with.
Melmarc refused to die here.
A wicked grin split Caldath’s lips.
“Yes!” it declared with a feral grin. “Stand proud, boy! For even without honor, you are strong! And for that, I will grant you the honor of a proper death.”
It stood back to its full height and raised its hand. Its spear disappeared from Faili and appeared in its hand. It aimed it downwards.
“The strong, even without their ability,” it said, spear poised. “Always die on their feet.”
Melmarc met the creature’s gaze in defiance.
I will not die here. His hips moved slightly. I refuse.
Caldath’s eyes were drawn to his hips and its eyes widened. It struck forward with its spear in anger and rage and panic.
Melmarc’s interface flashed in front of him.
[You have used skill Rings of Saturn]
A massive ring of mana shone to life around his waist and blasted forward. It slammed into Caldath before its spear could crossed the distance and sent it flying.
Caldath slammed into what was his throne before falling to the ground. Above its head no bar existed. All that was there was its indicator of deep red with a grey hue and its name.
[Caldath Son of Valoth (Child of the Void) (A)]
Its spear fell maybe five feet out of its reach, lying on the ground, covered in its own golden blood, Caldath, son of Valoth, reached for the weapon. Its hand didn’t reach it.
“Even to the end,” it muttered.
To everyone’s surprise, Jude was suddenly standing in front of it. He stood, a trembling mess, but remained there.
By the life of him, Melmarc didn’t know how the man had done it. He didn’t know how the man had gotten there. But he had.
Jude looked down at the creature. He picked the massive spear with both hands, struggling with the action. The moment he did, the red aura began gathering to him. The spear that impaled Melmarc’s hand crumbled to nothing and the others that kept his other limbs pinned vanished as if they had never been.
Caldath looked up at Jude. “You are not worthy.”
“Maybe,” Jude agreed. “But I will be rewarded.”
Then he struck with the spear.
…
A more unfair portal than this had never graced Jude before. Nothing about what he was experiencing made any sense. His interface had been speaking to him as if it was addressing him. First had been when it had asked him not to do too much when he’d entered the portal. Then it had quite literally told him that it didn’t like him as it kept him from leaving the portal.
Then, not long ago, it had updated itself. It had demanded that he help the boy kill the terrifying creature, offering a reward of increased skill mastery if he killed it himself.
As a C-rank Gifted with a D-rank growth potential, five percent increase in skill mastery was a steal. It was arguably three years’ worth of growth. Only a fool would refuse it.
So here he was, against all possibilities, standing above the terrifying monster. It was as if fate—or some greater being—had orchestrated all this. He was meant to be here. The world had made it possible for him to stand in front of Caldath in its final moments and deal the finishing blow.
Caldath looked up at him. “You are not worthy,”
No one knew that better than Jude. Melmarc was the worthy one. In fact, Jude knew that he was arguably the only one in this group that was without worth. But there was a reason he was a mercenary. There was a reason that was the life he’d chosen.
He knew what he was.
So, he looked down and met the monster’s eyes.
“Maybe,” he said. “But I will be rewarded.”
Then he struck.
The spear hit the monster in the eye and his interface came alive in front of him.
[You cannot slay this creature]
[You do not deal damage]
[A Sentient Being cannot take the life of a Sapient Being of Broken Divinity]
…
[You have done too much]
“What the hell?”
The words were barely out of Jude's mouth when Caldath’s weak hand moved.
Off in the distance, Jude thought he heard Naymond say a single word. But perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it was nothing but a figment of his imagination.
“Incoming.”
Pain was nothing but a momentary pinprick. It was almost imagined.
Regardless, darkness took Jude violently.
Comments
Mr. Iron
VB done set Jude up. Neat.
Adam Davies
Hahaha so thats the kind if story you are telling. I like.
Dual.
Dude really was about to killsteal
John Doe
I really thought that Jude was gonna have a badass moment, but nah
