OptimysticStories
patreon
ER: Chapter 58 - The Chase
🕑 Added 2025-03-24 08:26:31 +0000 UTCDay 105, 1:45 PM
The blinding lightning, moth dust, and the spasming urchin’s backstab started a havoc amongst the minor abominations. Three died to my spell, five more injured, all of which frenzied and tearing at each other rather than me. A centipede from hell turns around and starts feasting on the survivors, along with a giant antlion, which takes the chance and sinks its giant mandibles into an unsuspecting caterpillar-like thing.
I probably have the exact names from all these creatures from Hadriuse’s library, but sorting out names is low priority at the moment. A praying mantis-octopus hybrid approaches, and I turn to run. My aim is not to escape, but to open distance and give myself the time to cast. I sing as I run, and I pivot as I complete the chant. The lightning arc kills two monsters, and I step into the jungle, making good use of the chaos.
The only question is - should I face thirty inquisitors on my own. The answer is no, but I can’t lead them to the mansion, they don’t know that Edna and the girls are inside, living comfortable lives.
Wait! A bunch of inquisitors and abominations followed our trail, that means they reached Deephorn.
I suppress the dark thoughts trying to invade my mind, and run for the dungeon when another realization strikes me. If they can control abominations, and they have changed the dungeons, going into one is probably the height of stupidity.
Still, I keep running towards the dungeon. I need time to consider my options. The abominations are now dead, dying, or injured. Two might still be fine, but if I keep ahead of them for twenty minutes, my mana will recover.
That’s another thing the dungeon has going for me. It’s saturated with mana, and recovery is twice as fast as it is outside. My superior shoes thunder against the ruined flagstones, and of all things one can think in this situation, I’m glad Edna made and reinforced my shoes for me.
Behind me, inquisitors shout at the monsters, which are still savaging each other, and I slow down. While I want to present myself as a fleeing weakling mage, I also want to keep my eyes on them.
Worst-case scenario, redo and ambush the inquisitors and their monsters with Edna’s help.
For some reason, the thought isn’t nauseating anymore, but it is clouding my judgment and drawing more attention than it deserves.
I glance back. The inquisitors slaughtered the useless minor abominations and are pursuing me. They run straight through the moth’s psychedelic powder, and while I see no effect, I dearly hope there is some. That drug is powerful enough to knock out or at least impede minor abominations and inquisitors are just humans.
Sure enough, one of them trips and falls, others running past him. I guess that’s as good as it gets, the drug is worming its way into their bloodstreams and brains. Even if it doesn’t incapacitate them, slowing down their reflexes and impairing their vision or balance are the kinds of unfair advantage I’m looking for in a battle one against thirty.
I turn around, brandishing Batsy and roaring with all I’ve got. Three men stumble, one of them actually falls, but the one in the lead seems unshaken. The inquisitor swings his poleax, and I pivot and avoid him. There’s little point fighting the best and fittest while others are free to provide support. I swing at the second runner to the left of the irregular wedge.
The man’s eyes grow wide, then Batsy slams into his ribs. He flies like a sack, straight at the leader, who is turning around from his missed blow. I hear the sound of bodies slamming into each other and a grunt, but they are still invisible to scanner. I dismiss the useless thing. Believing my back is clear when it isn’t could kill me.
I have to trust Battlefield Mastery, and with that thought, I tear into the others. There’s less space to maneuver. I can’t swing Batsy hard enough to send the inquisitor flying, but she’s perfectly suited for cracking skulls, necks, and ribs.
An inquisitor jumps me from the side with a dagger in hand. I twist. Using Batsy as a spear, I ram her into the man’s chest. His sternum cracks like aged wood under an ax, and he spews blood. I duck, throwing him over me, just as another inquisitor brings down his poleax on me.
He strikes his comrade’s back, and Batsy finds his throat.
Seven dead, one with a useless broken arm, that leaves twenty-two, including the one who tripped. I can see him running, but there’s a living wall between us.
Poleaxes in close combat. The inquisitors have received no military training, they are brawling, clueless as to how to use their numbers. A proper regiment of thirty soldiers keeping formation would have been impossible to kill this smoothly. At best, I would have run away after killing a few.
Batsy strikes a man’s temple. He’s dead, falling over his comrade. I sing of lightning and nails.
The hand gestures demand me to release Batsy with one hand, and while risky, I could eliminate two or three inquisitors with the spell.
Instead of targeting one of them, I send the blast at cracked stones, which I have walked over five seconds prior. The rock explodes, sending shrapnel in all directions. While the gravel did tear at the surrounding inquisitors, the lightning arc itself killed no one. Instead of electrocuting the intended victim, it swirled around the inquisitor before blasting the flagstone.
Two men fall screaming, and the inquisitor I’m fighting shudders, the broken rocks have struck his back. I use the moment’s inattention and finish him off. That’s nineteen left, and I’m all out of tricks.
I spin, trying to open space, but an ax bites into my shoulder.
[Rage activated.
Duration - two minutes and thirty seconds]
Huh, I guess it’s a coin toss. My vision goes black.
A beeping sound awakens me. Torrential rain is hitting my face, I’m lying on the ground, surrounded by corpses. My shoulder is killing me, and as I stand, I realize I’m missing an arm. I summon BSD, I’m critically wounded, four health remaining, my heart is racing like mad, barely any blood to pump, and if not for my prodigious vitality, I would’ve died already.
I struggle to stand once more, but I can’t feel my legs, so I crawl towards the mansion. Edna can heal me, I hope. Otherwise, redo is inevitable. I could sacrifice an eye and an arm for my wife’s and my children’s’ sake, but not for Edna and the girls. Not when there’s an alternative, anyway.
I drag myself forward for an hour with one arm and dead legs, crossing about a mile, maybe less, before I appear at the mansion.
“You are injured,” the building concludes with wisdom beyond its kind’s usual ability. “Please wait while staff members come to bring you in.”
“I have a ticket.” It doesn’t respond. I yell the words again, but it just leaves me in the rain.
I drag myself up the stairs.
“Please wait while staff members come to bring you in,” the building repeats. I know it’s a recording of a long dead mage or estate administrator, but I’m getting angry again. Unfortunately, other than being angry, there is nothing I can do.
At least I’m out of the rain.
I try to stand, to fool the magical seals that I am alive and well, but my spine is snapped, and with only one arm and jelly legs, standing is proving difficult.
“What happened to you?” Edna shouts while opening the door after what seems like an eternity.
“Inquisitors attacked.” I consider passing out dramatically. The only thing keeping me conscious is willpower, but I need to be awake and see what is about to happen. What will my ally do now that I am lame and useless?
She starts chanting. Green motes gather around my body, and fuse with me. I’m guessing they are expelling brown mana, but all they are achieving is making me feel worse. After a minute, I’m out of immediate mortal danger and everything hurts, every inch of me trying to be heard at once.
The pain becomes agony, and I’m guessing most men would have fainted by now, not that it would help them.
My spine slithers like a serpent inside my abdomen. With a thunderous crack, it moves into place, and I scream, finally unable to endure any longer.
Coagulated blood gushes out of my mouth. Someone pierced my lung, and I didn’t even know. Man, I really was hanging by a thread.
The healing stops, and Edna slumps to the ground, sweat streaming down her brow.
“I’m out of mana.” She pants. “We can continue in an hour; you’re out of the woods.”
“Thank you, Edna.”
“We’re even now.” She has the grace and bearing of a half-empty bag of flour, her head resting on her knees. “Tell me what happened.”
“Thirty inquisitors happened. I don’t even know how I survived. Well, actually, I do. I killed thirty inquisitors, but that’s not all. They had abominations, Edna. They commanded them like dogs. Twelve minor abominations. I had to kill them, then fight the inquisitors. I don’t even know how I survived…”
The words turn into a slur, and all is black again.
