The Conciege
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August Intruder- Chapter 79- Oh! Damned!
🕑 Added 2024-09-07 01:26:53 +0000 UTCMelmarc stared up at the hulking humanoid wolf. He was baffled and confused. How much of the portal had Delvers gotten wrong?
A portal summoned help was supposed to be a translucent form of blue-ish white or white-ish blue. Yet one stood in front of him in the varying beautifying colors of any living creature. Such a creature was also supposed to be mute, known to only do what it had to do to clear the portal, fight whatever creature was the reason for its summoning.
And yet, one had just spoken in front of him.
The creature, Failikdajafut Nilk’taifrigth Hkdott, looked like a lycanthrope. A werewolf capable of standing on two feet like a human. It had clawed hands and feet that were currently exposed and blue eyes that looked at him with a touch of interest. It wore light armor. A simple leather vest that was not at all a vest. It was brown, the size of two heads put together, and was secured firmly over the left side of the creature’s chest.
The creature wore vambraces on both arms and what looked like shin guards on both legs. They were both brown as the dirt on a forest ground. It wore nothing over its groin and Melmarc made a mental note not to look down.
The creature—Melmarc had decided to call it Faili—narrowed its eyelids. It peered deeper at him as if trying to make sense of something.
Then its feral smile widened. <<You can hear me.>>
For some reason, while it had been a simple sentence, there was something ominous about it. It was as if he wasn’t supposed to be able to hear it.
Faili turned its head and looked at Melmarc’s father. <<Can he hear me, too?>>
“These things always have a class,” Saxi said, oblivious to what was currently happening.
“The summoner is usually the one that gets the piece of information,” Claire said. “At least that’s what I’ve heard.”
Faili turned its attention back to Melmarc. It frowned. <<Another dud.>>
With that, it turned away as if disappointed and stood squarely in front of the door. <<Let’s just get this over with.>>
Everyone was looking a Melmarc.
“Do you have its name and class?” Jed asked.
Melmarc nodded. “It’s a [Slasher]. A rank.”
Nelson let out a groan. “It means the thing inside there is at least an A rank.” He rolled his shoulder, pumped himself up. His face turned solemn. “This isn’t going to end well.”
Everyone knew that if a summoned help in the portal was stronger than those in the group, then the final creature to be fought was significantly stronger. And from what Melmarc knew, summoned assistants were never weaker than the strongest Delver.
His eyes settled on Faili and the door. Beyond it was an A-rank monster. Maybe an S-rank.
Were they going to survive this?
“Pseudo B,” his father said suddenly.
Saxi snapped his finger. “That’s what it…”
He trailed off at a look from Lisa. It was clear they knew something, although it was also possible that whatever it was wasn’t really relevant to the current situation.
“Here’s the trick, Marc,” Axe said after giving Saxi a look. “When you are faced with a portal with a final enemy you have to defeat, you give it your all.”
Defeat. Melmarc had a very strong feeling that the word was just a soft and gentle way of telling him to kill whatever was behind the doors.
Axe walked up to him. “You go in there and fight whatever’s in there like an F-rank fighting off an SS-rank. That’s how you survive. No matter the portal, treat it like you’re the underdog.”
Melmarc nodded. He could see sense in a piece of advice like that.
Returning his attention to Faili and the door, Melmarc sucked in a deep breath and let it out. He prepared himself. There would be nothing truly different here.
I’m still fighting for my life.
They arranged themselves in front of the door. Faili in his towering height—Melmarc thought the creature was male since it had a deep voice—stared up at the door, sniffing the air. Then it looked down at the rest of them, standing beside it.
It didn’t look impressed.
Melmarc turned his head in surprise. “You’re coming, too?”
“Of course I am,” Naymond said, eyes fixed on the door. “How else am I going to convince you to be my commanding officer?”
The [Sage] was putting up a good front, but Melmarc could see that he was worried.
“You told me yourself that you’re a support class not a combat class,” Melmarc told him. “We’re going into a combat situation. This might not be a good idea.”
Naymond raised a finger at him. “Ah, but you see, I’m a support class. I support.” He gestured at the line of them standing in front of the door. “This is a team and you are all in need of support. This is where my class shines brightest. And I intend on shining very much.” A sly smile split his lips. “Wouldn’t you like to see the reason people like employing members of my class?”
It had been a curiosity for Melmarc once, now, he couldn’t say.
“Sure,” he said in the end. “Why not.”
Faili let out a sigh. It came out like a low growl. <<If Daisukacjtosla was here I’d’ve bet six furtails that none of them walk out alive.>> He placed a hand on the door. <<But so is the fate of the path we choose. I will burn a hunt to the moon in their name.>>
It was quite worrying to know their summoned assistant didn’t believe in their chances of survival. On another note, Pelumi would be surprised to know that whatever the summoned assistants were, it seemed like they had a life.
Unless they were actual amalgamations of whatever residue were left of beings that had been here once.
Melmarc paused. It was odd, thinking about something as normal as a simple conversation with Pelumi. He hadn’t thought of her in what felt like ages. He hadn’t thought of anyone that wasn’t family, Delano or Eroms in forever.
“Ready?” Clinton said, drawing Melmarc from his reverie.
“Ready,” the others chorused.
Naymond gave only a nod.
Faili said, <<A battle fit for the moon.>>
Then it pushed the door open as if the doors weighed nothing at all.
With the doors open before them, inside the room was dark, and the hue that had surrounded the door was now nothing more than a curtain of colored air in the space the doors had once occupied.
Faili looked to his left, then his right. The team seemed to still be prepping themselves mentally because no one took a step forward. Melmarc had a feeling there was no curtain of light in front of them.
Faili stepped forward and through the curtain of light.
Understanding that there was no point wasting anymore time, Melmarc followed after. He gave his father one last look and found him standing there with the most awkward motivating smile on his face.
His father wasn’t known to smile so Melmarc knew for a fact that he was giving it his all. But it was so awkward to look at. If he was being honest, out of context, it would’ve been nothing short of terrifying.
Melmarc smiled back, then walked through the curtain of light.
[You have entered an area of Broken Divinity]
[You have been inflicted with status Debuff Ruin]
[Ruin]
Enemies within area of Broken Divinity lose one stat point on all active stats and 3% mastery on all skills.
…
[A Sapient life form representing its world has been detected.]
[August Intruder detected]
[All status ailments of Broken Divinity are lifted]
[You have gained immunity]
Beside Melmarc, Faili scoffed in irritation. <<An annoying type.>>
The others entered behind them a moment sooner. Naymond was the first, strolling in as if he still wore a perfectly tailored three-piece suit instead of the tattered mess that currently clothed him.
Clinton and the rest followed after. It wasn’t long after they walked in that Clinton let out an annoyed groan. Melmarc wondered if they were getting a similar notification.
“This is a problem,” Clinton said in a serious tone.
Melmarc spared the time to look back. He was looking around after all, but in the darkness there wasn’t much to see. He did see Jude pale further. The Delver was ghostly at this point.
Will he really be alright?
“Trespassing,” a deep voice echoed through the room. It was simple, calm, yet so domineering. “Massacre. Destruction. Genocide… Theft. And as though it were not enough, now you intrude. You step into MY Domain! MY world! You intrude upon MY very being!”
A spark of white exploded in a small burst to their side. Melmarc stopped, his eyes landing on the spark of white. It was a simple tongue of fire, a deep white that hovered atop what looked like a hand held out in imploration.
Another white flame exploded in another direction. It was of the same size, dancing atop a hand like the last.
A cacophony of flames exploded, slowly lighting up the entire room. It lit over more hands in a straight line on both sides of the room. Behind Melmarc, the others watched with awe and worry. Naymond did not.
With the room lit up Melmarc was more enraptured by something else. Once upon a time, when he’d made his way into the castle while walking with Saxi and the others. He’d seen something on the wall. A face. A hand. A body doing its best to reach out of the wall.
It had looked artistic then, grotesque but artistic. In this room, however, as artistic as it was, Melmarc couldn’t focus on the artistry.
There were no walls, not by his standard. The entire wall was so covered in the grotesque form of bodies reaching out, seeking escape that it was like a depiction of far too many people trying to escape.
The entire walls of people were covered in blood red, soaked and drowned. It was a surprise that they were not dripping. Each one was so life like. The largest number of the bodies looked broken in despair, some mouths fell agape in nonexistent screams. There were almost no hands reaching out in supplication, only despair and fear and a desire for help.
Only a few hands were held out in supplication. From them hovered the flames of white that illuminated the room spanning the length of both walls.
“That’s terrible,” Claire muttered as the group slowly moved into position.
Despite their experience in the portal so far, Clinton, Jed, Nelson and Jude held their guns up, aimed forward like a military team.
“Take formation,” Clinton said in a low voice.
Melmarc wasn’t paying him much in the way of attention. He and Faili were occupied by something more important. There was a massive throne at the end of the room, right in front of them.
On it sat a creature as large as Faili.
<<Fucking Dying,>> Faili spat.
He said ‘dying’ like it was a title or a description like ‘undead.’ As if the creature in front of them was stuck in a perpetual state of dying but refused to die.
<<This will be an annoying one,>> Faili said. <<No matter.>>
He held his hands out to his sides and his claws grew slightly longer. It lowered its stance and focused on the creature in front of them.
“I was a god once,” the deep voice came back, calling out from the creature in front of them. “I touched true divinity.”
The creature was massive, clad in crimson armor and desiccating skin on its unmasked face. It sat regally on its broken throne with golden eyes. On its left was as massive broad sword as long as two men and as wide as Eroms if there were two of him with a curved crimson blade. On its right was a spear as tall as ten feet. Red smoke spilled downwards from it.
It leaned forward and reached skywards with one hand and Melmarc noticed that a number of chains bound it to the throne, black and heavy.
It stared skyward. “True divinity, like the wisps of a fleeing slimp. Then…” Its head snapped forward like an annoyed old man’s. “It was taken from me, usurped by those who would not share the power. Greedy fools, all of them.” Its eyes settled slowly on Melmarc and Faili. “Now here you stand, inspired by the laws of existence.”
It shook a tired head. “No matter. Like the ones before you, you too shall fall, Chosen of the void.”
It stood up, the motion jerky like the [Damned]. Melmarc wanted to attack but there was something ominous in the creature in front of him. He had a feeling if he struck now, nothing good would happen.
Faili wasn’t moving either. He stood next to Melmarc, waiting.
The creature, standing tall, reached to his side and wrapped a gauntleted hand around the hilt of the sword and pulled it free. The sword was so long that he couldn’t hold it down without it trailing on the ground.
“Now then,” it stepped forward, its sword dragging a trail of sparks behind it. “I believe the time has come.”
It stood regally, and looked up. When it did, a notification appeared above its head.
[Caldath Son of Valoth (Child of the Void) (A/B)]
Beneath it was a red indicator and a long red bar that spanned horizontally from one end to the other. It was long but confined to rest only above Caldath.
<<And there’s the health bar,>> Faili said to himself. <<May the path of the warrior begin and the moon guide my claws.>>
Caldath gave the bar and his name one final attention and nodded as if all was finally right with their presence. Then he returned his attention to Melmarc and Faili.
“Child of the Void,” it said. “An unfitting name. But a child inherits from the father as always.”
It raised its sword, curved at the blade, and swung it backwards. It tore a gash in the ground. Melmarc had never seen anything break since entering the portal and knew one thing.
We don’t want to be hit with that.
Caldath nodded to itself, as if proud of what it’s blade had done. “Now then,” it turned to all of them, “Let us begin, Intruders.”
“Skill incoming!” Naymond announced.
The team fell into motion as Caldath swung his sword in a vertical upward slash. The blade tore through the ground once more, raising rocks and debris. But the skill was different. Three arcs of deep white shot forward like claws as tall as Faili each one of them, maybe taller.
Melmarc’s first instinct was to activate [Knowledge is Power]. He buried the instinct, suppressed it, and stepped to the side. There was enough space between each slash that it passed him by without touching him.
To his side, Faili did nothing to evade. Instead, he raised clawed hands and took a slash head on. It clashed into his claws and he turned the skill aside so that it flew off to smash into one of the walls.
<<Demi-gods and their obsession with pure mana,>> it scoffed. <<As annoying as it is pathetic.>>
Clinton and his men fell easily into formation. Nelson was already moving ahead, gun aimed, trigger pulled. Clinton was fast behind him, half a step and to the left. Jed followed. The sound of gunfire filled the air. Bullets pinged off Caldath’s armored body and he turned his head to them in mild confusion.
Melmarc noticed the almost imperceptible decline of the red bar above Caldath’s head. The bullets were having an effect it seemed. But the effect was wholly inconsequential. They could shoot it until they died of old age and still wouldn’t be able to kill it.
Faili dropped down on all four limbs and bounded off to the side, it ran in an arc as if trying to flank Caldath from the side while the others pelted it with bullets from the front.
Melmarc’s mind warred with what he should do. There were options, he had them, but there was already a plan. He was supposed to protect Claire with Naymond.
With a frown and a strong pull towards the respect of hierarchy, he took a step back. Then another. As the others pushed forward, he slowly fell back to protect Claire. The last thing they needed was their Healer dying on them. And he held the responsibility of keeping her alive.
Faili went after Caldath on the side of its sword arm. It charged him with the kind of speed you would only see on an agility focused class. However, it did not charge into it. It came to a screeching stop and swung one clawed hand. Four diagonal slashes of deep red mana shot out from it.
Caldath ignored the bullets and swung his sword at Faili’s attack. His blade shattered three of the four slashes, but the fourth phased as if teleporting through a short distance. It appeared behind the swung sword and slammed into Caldath’s shoulder.
The blow sent Caldath staggering a step back.
Melmarc watched the red bar reduce. It wasn’t too significant, but alone, it had done at least ten times the damage shooting had done.
Caldath rounded on Faili and growled something feral.
Faili growled back. <<Put up a fight, beast!>>
Caldath stepped in his direction, a single step covering over a distance. It was fast, but not fast enough to move unseen. Still, it was fast enough to escape the burst of bullets and swing its blade at Faili.
The lycanthrope hopped away from where it had been. Caldath’s sword tore a groove in the ground sending rubbles flying. Faili followed quickly. It leapt forward, claws slashing. Caldath took the blow with a raised sword, blocked the attacks. The clash sent a ringing of steel against bone through the entire room.
At some point Faili dived Caldath, landing with all fours on the flat of the creature’s blade as it threatened to keep the lycanthrope at bay. Caldath heaved forward with Faili on its sword and swung Faili aside.
Faili soared through the air and landed gracefully on its feet.
“Games!” Caldath hissed. “Sent to me by what is left of the vestiges of existence. You will die like those before you. Like those after you.”
A slash of blue mana shot through the distance, aimed perfectly for its neck. Caldath turned and caught the attack in a raised hand. It shattered harmlessly against its palm.
“Weak,” it spat.
Melmarc would be lying if he said it was wrong. Jed was a C-rank Delver. Compared to Caldath that could’ve been an A regardless of what its indicator was saying, he was weak. The realization dawned on Melmarc.
Clinton was the only B-rank amongst the Delvers. Nelson was a C-rank which had Melmarc believing that the Delver would not be able to survive a blow from Caldath’s sword, no matter what skill he used.
Melmarc took a step forward but hesitated.
Heirarchy.
He understood his own thoughts. In all things there needed to be hierarchy. Order was the natural way of things, even in nature among the living. You did not disobey simply because you were right.
Melmarc gritted his teeth, annoyed at his own understanding of his current limitations. In front of him, Clinton and Nelson continued to do their best to distract Caldath with suppressing fire. It was proving pointless now. In the beginning, it had worked simply because Caldath had been momentarily confused by it.
Now, it ignored them.
Melmarc paused. Where’s Jude?
No sooner had the thought come alive had he found the Delver. Jude paled, cowering in the corner as close to the exit as possible. The doors remained open, however, he was pressed against the curtain of light as if it was a solid thing.
He broke rank!
The realization made Melmarc almost bubble in anger. A Delver had broken rank on such an important fight. Jude had had a long space of time to back out of this. He’d encouraged himself in the beginning but his fear had followed him all the way to the entrance.
I should’ve stopped him from coming in, Melmarc thought with gritted teeth as Faili engaged Caldath alone in front of him. No. I should’ve forced him through the portal when it appeared.
Jed had given up on his gun wholly, discarded it to the ground like a useless thing. Now he held knives in both hands and was throwing sword slashes at Caldath. While it held Faili in a stalemate, Caldath gave those slashes as much attention as he gave the gunfire. None.
Each slash battered against Caldath’s armored body, shattering like glass upon contact. It told Melmarc one simple truth.
This fight is no place for a C-rank Delver.
Caldath deflected a blow from Faili with the flat of its blade. It was a properly executed parry that left the lycanthrope open for an attack.
“Skill incoming!” Naymond declared.
Faili’s eyes widened at the announcement. It gritted its teeth and Melmarc saw it brace for impact. Caldath’s hand came up and slapped it in a blur of motion. The impact was like a thunder clap and Faili was sent flying.
Jude had broken hierarchy. He was deserving of punishment, one that would help him understand that cowardice was not to be tolerated in crucial moments such as this. There was a time and a place.
Another slash from Jed slammed and shattered against Caldath’s back. It ignored him and pushed forward.
“Cover me!” Clinton bellowed, dropping his gun and charging forward. “If the summoned dies, we’ll be sitting ducks!”
He was right. The only thing that had managed to leave any significant mark on Caldath’s health bar had been that single slash from the lycanthrope’s skill.
The team plan was a mess, thrown awry by Jude’s disruption. Melmarc knew he was simply making excuses, grasping at straws, but it sufficed for a moment of personal action.
[You have used skill Secrecy]
[Remaining uses 3/4]
The moment the ring of mana appeared, he sent it flying forward. His aim was precise, made to strike Caldath right in the chest, the largest part of it as it approached Faili.
Caldath froze at the last second and dived away and into a roll. With its large frame, it shattered the ground as it rolled. The room erupted in a chaotic roar of sound as its body moved over the ground. It was like boulders smashing against each other.
It grated at Melmarc’s ears.
The ring of mana went through the air where Caldath had been and buried itself in the wall in the distance. There, it exploded, affecting nothing.
Deep seething eyes of blood red turned on Melmarc. He saw rage and anger in them.
“You dare!” Caldath bellowed. “You—”
Four red slashes slammed into its side, staggering it forward. Its bar decreased some more and Melmarc saw the grey background that was left with each decrease. As much as he wanted to dwell on if the grey was supposed to be another bar or simply a background, Melmarc was more interested in how Caldath had reacted to [Secrecy].
It wasn’t the rage and the anger but the complete and utter attention it had given the skill. It had been enough to distract it enough that it had been completely ignorant of Faili.
Claire and Naymond stood behind Melmarc as Faili rushed Caldath once more. Caldath’s attention moved from Melmarc to Faili. It was about to react to the lycanthrope when Clinton charged it from the side. The Delver and the lycanthrope had the Demi-god in a pincer attack.
Lightning coursed through Clinton’s arms charging him up. Each spark was a deep blue. Faili clashed into Caldath at the same time Clinton did with a vicious blow. They were almost in perfect sync.
“Incoming skill!” Naymond shouted from behind Melmarc. “Power blow!”
Caldath swung his sword in one hand and turned its body to the side. It sword went through the air in a speed that rivaled the blow Caldath had given the lycanthrope. Faili slammed angrily into the blade with enough force to cause an echo. As for Clinton’s attack, Caldath threw a simple punch against it, as if he couldn’t be bothered to attend to it.
Melmarc wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected from the clash, but Clinton was sent flying back.
All the while bullets from Nelson’s gun continued to pelt Caldath all over. When Clinton was sent flying, however, the bullets stopped and Nelson dived out to catch Clinton before he landed terribly.
Caldath was beginning to turn its attention back on Melmarc when Faili let out an ear piercing roar. It shook the room around them and Melmarc watched the roar gain all of Caldath’s attention once more.
But that wasn’t all there was to the roar. Melmarc saw it as Caldath tried to take a step forward. For a fraction of a second, a very insignificant moment, Caldath’s leg seized beneath it. It growled in annoyance.
Blood dripped from the side of Faili’s mouth and it smirked at the Demi-god. <<Weak,>> it spat.
It was an odd thing seeing as it looked like Caldath was the one winning the fight. Once more, Faili and Caldath came to blows. Their exchange was a sight to behold. Caldath was fast with sword swings and thrown fists. At some point, it kicked forward, smashing one of Faili’s front limb.
Faili let out a loud roar. Its pain filled the air but it did not back down. Suddenly it was behind Caldath, its speed carried it so fast it had basically phased out of place to appear there.
Caldath turned, arm swinging in a backhanded blow. Faili was gone once more, appearing where on Caldath’s chest. Caldath struggled against the disorientation of its sudden appearance. Melmarc didn’t know if it was the weight of the lycanthrope but Caldath staggered back a single step.
<<Weak!>> Faili barked. At this point, Melmarc was beginning to think there was something behind the word, something beyond the surface meaning.
Then Faili bit into Caldath’s neck. For a creature in a room covered in crimson and clad in an armor of blood, Caldath’s blood spilled golden.
It roared in pain as a good chunk of its health bar disappeared, leaving a large amount of grey in its absence.
Clinton charged behind Caldath as it struggled in pain, battling to throw Faili off of it. The Delver came up as high as Caldath’s navel if the demi-god had one. With thunder crackling through him, light spilling from his eyes like an overcharged device, he threw a vicious fist into the back of Caldath’s knee with an awkward form.
Caldath let out a grunt as his knee buckled beneath him. As he dropped Faili released its neck only to take another bite out of it. Caldath let out another roar in pain.
It took Melmarc a moment to notice why Clinton’s form had been awkward when he’d thrown the punch. It was because one of his arms dangled uselessly at his side, blood dripping from it.
It seemed it had shattered in his clash against Caldath in his last attack.
Nelson and Jed rushed over to Melmarc as Caldath continued to struggle against Faili. Clinton had backed away from the two. They struggle was chaotic, loud like the rumbling of mountains if mountains could rumble.
“Marc,” Jed said with pain on his face.
He didn’t seem hurt. If there was anything hurt about him, it would be his pride from having his skills prove completely useless.
Melmarc gave him his attention while Nelson stood next to him, watching Faili and Caldath. The demi-god was busy trying its best to pry the lycanthrope’s maw open with one hand. It could’ve dropped the sword and done it with two, but it didn’t. Melmarc couldn’t understand why.
“We miscalculated terribly,” Jed said. His eyes glanced at Jude before coming back. “Clinton’s the only B-rank in the team, which does not bode well for us.”
“Incoming skill!” Naymond announced. He had a serious look on his face, his eyes never leaving Caldath for a moment.
Melmarc was beginning to have the feeling that Naymond hadn’t looked away from Caldath since they’d stepped into the room.
The air grew heavy suddenly. Not so heavy as to be a physical weight, but heavy enough to be noticed. It drew Melmarc’s attention even as Jed continued to speak.
“We’re useless against it,” he said. “I’ve only got the one attack skill and I’m not too proud to admit that its useless against that thing. And Nelson wouldn’t last a second against it as a tank.”
Nelson nodded.
Melmarc had his attention on the air that was heavy. Naymond had been calling out the skills even if he’d only given details on it once. How?
Forms.
Melmarc remembered him saying that skills had forms. Was he anticipating the skills by their forms? If that was true, how much attention was he paying? Was there some way that skills could be predicted through their forms.
“What’s coming, Mr. Hitchcock?” he found himself asking.
Naymond shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“You’ve got to get me to Clinton or Clinton to me,” Claire said. “If we don’t attend to his hand, he might lose it.”
The rubbles of the shattered ground rose into the air slowly. Caldath was done with its struggle against Faili. It still tried to fight back but it let out no sound anymore. It was as if it was focusing on more important things.
Melmarc was worried about what it would be. There were no questions to be asked anymore, he needed to act.
Clinton took one look at the rising rubbles and darted behind Caldath, fist cocked back for another blow. He intended to disrupt the current skill, strike before its completion, whatever it was.
Naymond bellowed, “Skill Incoming!”
Clinton threw his punch as fast as he could with lightning in his veins. His fist shot through the distance at an almost imperceptible speed. Caldath’s sword arm blurred.
Clinton’s voice filled the entire space in pain. He roared with a voice that shook Melmarc’s chest.
“Get him here!” Claire was already shouting before Melmarc saw the Delver’s bloodied arm hit the wall over on the other side of the room.
Caldath’s massive sword was held high behind it. Despite it bleeding from its neck, Faili’s jaws biting down, and the red of its health bar very close to empty, it grinned something golden.
The risen rubbles gathered in the air then coalesced into thin yet long needles of stone, strong and sharp enough to pierce the earth.
Nelson took a hesitant step forward, but Melmarc was already running. Hierarchy was often broken in the face of necessity.
Caldath’s eye ball turned to look at Melmarc, to watch him run towards Clinton who was currently on his knees still screaming, blood pooling from the injury at his shoulder were Caldath’s sword had severed his arm and sent it flying into the wall.
Melmarc would not be fast enough. He could see it in Caldath’s eyes. The Demi-god knew this just as well as Melmarc did. It watched Melmarc only so that they would see it, know it. Caldath’s sword would come down on Clinton before Melmarc got to him.
And all I did was stand back and watch, Melmarc scolded himself as he ran. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to be unhealthily fast, not as much as he did in this moment.
[Secrecy], he thought. He could use it, but to do what? Best case scenario, it would terminate whatever skill Caldath was brewing. Worst case scenario the only thing keeping Faili on top of it to drain its health was a skill and he would endanger Faili, too.
Both situations still ended up with Clinton dead.
[You have used Rings of Saturn]
[Remaining uses 3/4]
Melmarc charged the ring until he could feel the weight of it pulling him down. Caldath’s gaze met his eyes and widened in what looked like horror. Panic filled its eyes and it gritted its teeth as if in self control.
Melmarc swung his arm, throwing the ring of mana with all the strength he could muster as Caldath’s sword came down on Clinton.
The sword came down on a screaming Clinton and the ring of mana slammed into the side of the sword. It pushed it from its trajectory and the sword dug a line in the ground right next to Clinton.
Clinton barely registered it. If he did, he didn’t show it.
Melmarc got to Clinton, the closest he’d been to Caldath and scooped Clinton up into his arms. Blood drenched his arm as he picked the Delver up but he ignored it.
The needles overhead came alive, and dropped.
They shot down like fired weapons, arrows from bows in the sky. Melmarc had gotten Clinton but there was more to it. His brain hesitated too many ideas suddenly coming up to mind. He drowned them out as he activated the skill he needed.
[You have used skill Knowledge is Power]
Then he hunched over Clinton, widened his back as much as he could and braced for impact as he continued to run. He would not die. There would be no damage. But pain would greet him like a friend turned foe.
The first needle slammed into his back and shattered on impact.
Melmarc screamed in pain.
[Skill Knowledge is Power is in effect]
[You cannot receive or inflict damage.]
The second one struck him against the neck. Pain flared along with his interface and Melmarc’s eyes almost rolled into the back of his head.
He staggered once and his knees threatened to buckle beneath him. It didn’t.
[Skill Knowledge is Power is in effect]
[You cannot receive or inflict damage.]
He pressed forward and the third needle struck. It hit him in the back of the head. This time his eyes did roll up. Everything went blank for the fraction of a second and he heard a howl in the distance somewhere.
Pain threatened to undo him and he fought against it. He would not go down here. He would not let Clinton die.
He was stronger than this.
Dissonant.
[Skill Knowledge is Power is in effect]
[You cannot receive or inflict damage.]
Melmarc’s legs buckled beneath him, and he dropped to his knees.
It had truly been dissonant. He couldn’t keep going. Ahead of him, he could see Naymond stand with his hands held out in front of him.
One of the projectiles, like massive needles as tall as a man, shattered on the ground beside Melmarc. In front of him where the others were, none of the projectiles descended.
Behind them Melmarc watched Jude begin to cower less. His eyes settled on Caldath, widened. Melmarc didn’t care to look back. Naymond looked too concentrated as Nelson rushed towards Melmarc.
He came to a screeching halt in front of him and Melmarc acted without thought. He leaned forward and shoved Clinton into Nelson’s arms.
“Run,” he told him, voice hoarse and weak. “Run.”
Nelson took Clinton but didn’t go immediately. “I need to take you too.”
Melmarc shook his head. The burst of mana from [Knowledge is Power] was still a good way from him. He had time.
“Go,” he said. “I’m still fine.”
Nelson frowned, then rose to his feet and looked at Melmarc’s back. Whatever he saw must’ve reassured him because he took a hesitant step back.
“Get her to reattach his arm.” Melmarc wasn’t even sure what he was saying. He couldn’t remember getting Clinton’s arm.
Nelson took a few more steps back before turning and fleeing. It was the right choice. Melmarc knew it. Nelson knew it. There wasn’t a single person currently in the room that didn’t know it.
This fight was no place for a C-rank Gifted.
Melmarc turned as the burst of mana continued its return to him. He pushed himself to his feet and faced Caldath. There he saw where the howl he’d heard in the distance had come from.
Three of the needles had impaled Faili to Caldath’s chest and the lycanthrope struggled in place, whimpering with every action. Caldath bled more from the places where the needles had pierced him to impale Faili.
“You broken child,” Caldath said, staring Melmarc down, taller than him even across the distance and on his knees as the red bar above him finally dwindled into none existence, leaving nothing but grey in its wake. “You do not understand that you have been sent to me to die.”
Its body let out a gentle red glow, one that stained its golden blood and turned it crimson. Then the glow went from gentle to feral. The chains that held it to the throne shook, then cracked. Weakened.
Something was terribly wrong.
“I have never been one for the sword.” Caldath stabbed his sword into the ground. “It was always my father’s weapon.”
Faili continued to struggle. Caldath paid it no attention.
Whatever was happening, Melmarc did not like it. Faili pulled its jaw from Caldath’s neck, leaned back as [Knowledge is Power] came to its conclusion, and roared into Caldath’s ear. The sound shook the room once more but Caldath remained unfazed. Faili could’ve whispered into its ear for all its reaction.
[You have used skill Rings of Saturn]
[Remaining uses 2/4]
The ring of mana shone brightly as it crossed the distance to strike Caldath in the face. It made contact only to ricochet of the creature’s face and into the distance.
Caldath chuckled something dark and amused.
“I warned you, Intruder.” It grabbed Faili by the furs of its back and pulled. “You’ve been sent to die.”
Faili howled and whimpered and cried in pain as it was slowly extracted from the needles that kept it impaled to Caldath. When it was free, Caldath threw it to the side like a broken toy.
[You have used skill Rings of Saturn]
[Remaining uses 1/4]
Again, Caldath didn’t flinch and the ring of mana bounced off his chest. Melmarc’s interface came to life in front of him.
[Demi-god Caldath has activated Incomplete skill Divine Dominion]
[All damage taken within his domain is reduced by 99.99% for 5s]
Caldath kept his eyes locked on Melmarc’s and he raised what had once been his sword arm to his side.
“Valoth perfected the sword.” It flexed its fingers and the spear beside the throne shot out from its spot to place itself in his hold. “Mine has always been the spear.”
The spear glowed a deep red, resonating with the color of the room and Caldath’s armor. The chains cracked more.
The bodies in the walls began to move, squirm. The mouths that hung agape, contorted. From them came a terrible echo. A symphony of madness that pierced Melmarc’s ears. It was like the grating of mountains in an attempt to destroy each other.
When Caldath spoke again everything was different as its crimson aura settled like a mantle upon it.
“Oh! Damned!” It called out solemnly, rising wearily to its feet. “Play me to victory once more!”
Melmarc stared at the indicator above its head. With a grey bar, it read something new.
[Caldath Son of Valoth (Child of the Void) (A)]
As terrifying as everything was, the new rank, the chanting walls, the terrible music, Melmarc was more enthralled by something else.
Caldath’s indicator.
It was red, with a hue of grey.
Comments
Jeff Flores
Red with a grey hue. Just like Dorthnas. Wonder if Caldath is Dorthnas son or brother or something
Baconwargod
Phase 2s are always a bitch
JB
This is an epic fight!! Thank you!!
