Havoc1021
patreon
Rise of the Archon-Chapter 57
🕑 Added 2024-07-01 23:31:59 +0000 UTCThe thing stepped out of the pool, placing one bare foot on the water's edge. Steams slid down uneven shoulders, forming a shallow puddle that sunk into the dirt, turning it muddy. It looked dark, but the fading sun and glow of the waters let me make out its features.
I sincerely wished I could not.
It was a humanoid, but only in the loosest sense of the term. It had two arms, two legs, and an upright, though hunched posture, but rather than smooth, unblemished skin, it was covered in a mottled mess of green, brown, and gray shades. Weeping sores dotted its body, and weeping sores leaked black, thick fluids.
Its legs were short and squat, and its arms were unnaturally long and skeletal. Jagged claw-like nails tipped both hands and feet and despite its hunched stance, it stood well over six feet tall.
Worst of all was its face. It was a misshapen mass of twisted flesh and bone with features too distorted to recognize. There was a flat slash that might have been a mouth, a bulb for a nose, and two glistening dots set into depressions that faintly resembled eye sockets if they had been made of wax and melted.
I reached out, trying to gauge its strength with as gentle a touch as possible. If this thing was beyond me, I would need to run. The instant my mind brushed against it, my stomach twisted, and I had to swallow bile.
In humans, mana and flesh were distinct. It was like water in a glass, with liquid and container separate. Magical creatures lacked such a separation, but the transition was seamless and natural. While trickier to identify without experience, such a beast would feel healthy and hale.
This abomination felt like some butcher had taken mana and crammed it haphazardly into flesh. Power ran through its body, but the flow was uneven, warped, and twisted. Some portions shone in my mind's eye, strained to the brink of failure, while others looked dim and near-dead.
I fought back the sour taste on my tongue as the monster tilted its head to one side. Those glinting eyes shone, and it turned in the other direction, taking a step forward with a harsh, grunting noise.
Slowly, it moved its head back to a neutral position, and I watched as its chest expanded. The mana around us pulsed, but before I could do anything more, the monster opened its mouth and howled.
Tears sprang to my eyes as its shriek tore through me. My legs wobbled, and I could feel my shield waver and flicker, though I could not tell if it was due to lagging focus or something else. Internally, I screamed and demanded to move, but my body felt rooted in place, unable to do anything more than weather the beast's howl.
The monster's wail petered off into an echo, and it crouched low to the ground. Dirt sprayed in every direction as it pushed off, squat legs and clawed toes tearing up the ground. That single jump carried it the entire way up the incline, at least a dozen feet at once, and it half-stumbled, caught itself, tensed, and jumped again in a jerky, unagile gait. It was on top of me in just seconds, both hands hooked into vicious claws as it reached out for my throat.
At that moment, I silently thanked Sigmund for his demanding training. Instincts I had not realized I possessed moved my body, and I jumped to one side. My head ducked low, but something caught the edge of my cloak and pulled me back. Momentum warred in both directions, and there was a moment of choking as the clasp pulled against my throat before it was freed with a tearing noise.
I hit the ground, rolled, and was up on my feet in a single, mostly clean motion. That gave me enough time to turn, take in the beast, and duck under a swiping strike. Its hand snapped closed where my neck had been a heartbeat earlier, and I backpedaled to try and gain distance. Mana ran through my core as I tried to prepare a mana bolt, spear raised to ward off the creature's relentless assault.
Master Barlow had taught us to cast under pressure. She stressed that the winner of a duel was not the stronger mage or the more skillful one but the one who remained focused and in control. Panic made spellcasting impossible, and repairing that fatal flaw required precise, directed training.
So, the master duelist would have us practice spellcasting while she shouted questions or struck us with her cane. She would force us to hold our magic in place, try to split our focus, and otherwise poke at our focus with as much force as possible.
Unlike Sigmund's training, those preparations fell short of the real thing.
A dinner-plate-sized hand smashed into my chest, shattering my armor with the sound of breaking glass. Green shards danced in the air, fading to sparkling motes, and its strike retained enough force to throw me in one direction and my spear in another. My head smacked against dirt, turning my vision into a mess of black spots, and I blinked to try and clear my sight.
The beast followed me, hunching low to the ground and drawing its head back. Its mouth split open, jaw gaping wide to reveal crooked, broken, rotting black teeth as it let out another howl. I could taste the stench of rot and wrongness on its breath, and my heart sized as it lunged for my neck.
There was no time for any creative, skillful magic. As I had done against the boar, I clawed at my core and pulled mana out with haphazard control. It poured down my right arm and through my hand in a single forceful push. That crude strike slowed the monster down just a hair, but enough for me to grab at my belt.
The knife on my hip slipped from its sheath, and I stabbed it into the monster's side. Ideally, I would target the head, neck, or heart, but I had to settle for its stomach.
The abomination staggered away with a deafening howl, shaking its head in animalistic spasms. I rolled to my feet and scooped up my spear from where it had been thrown free, holding it with both hands. It took me precious seconds to pull a second shield into place and settle into my stance, but I managed both before the monster regained its focus.
Too-long fingers wrapped around the dagger hilt, and the monster tore it free with a punctuated scream. Green, half-congealed blood leaked from the wound, and the beast held up the knife blade to its eyes before tossing it aside.
I expected it to charge again, but the monster remained in place. It began to move to one side, facing me with one shoulder angled closer as it made strange, grunting noises again. I mirrored its movement, keeping it in the center of my vision as my heart pounded.
It took me a moment too long to realize what the monster had planned. I realized it wanted to put my back to the water, forcing me into the clearing and away from an easy road to escape. It seemed to know that I intended to run the moment an opportunity presented itself.
Before I could do as much, it screamed again. This time, I could feel the energy carried along through the air.
Mana crashed into my shield, and I felt my power ripple and wavered, almost like a taut instrument strung. Somehow, the beast must be using its power to disrupt my magic.
I tried to hold my magic in place, but the monster moved in that moment of disorientation.
It blurred the distance between us and swept one arm out. I had enough time to stab it with my spear, but the strike was shallow, unfocused, and insufficient to stop it from crashing into me.
My shield splintered and cracked. I rolled with the force, using it to throw me to one side, and got back to my feet as quickly as possible, spinning towards the forest. The beast was on top of me before I could make for the tree line, and it was all I could do to fall back under its assault.
The first strike swung wide, and the second nicked the edge of my shoulder. I sliced it across the ribcage with a counter and managed to mostly disperse two more of its furious swipes, but it drove me ever backward. It was a small miracle I managed to direct my retreat away from any errant corpses, but that was the limit to my skills.
Finally, my luck ran out. One foot caught on a low spot, and I stumbled. The beast saw its opportunity, pouncing with another scream, and I had just enough time to raise my spear and use the shaft to block as much force as possible.
The weapon shattered in half, leaving me with a length of about two feet from speartip to the remains of the shaft. Its hand slammed into me, barely slowed at all, and it bodily threw me away.
My back slammed into the ground, and I felt something in my chest creak and tear under the force.
I had read and heard that humans in battle would experience strange phenomena. Our reflexes sharpened, our strength increased, and pain became a distant concern. At that moment, my body became a mass of agony, and I doubted every such claim.
My ribs were seared with lines of fire running down my side. I took a single, gasping inhale to try and claim one lungful of air, but instead, I broke into a coughing fit. Tears came to my eyes, and I forced them down as I tried and failed to stand.
It took me precious seconds to struggle to my feet, but the beast had strangely not followed. Instead, it regarded me from several steps away, seeming almost curious as it remained half-crouched and waiting.
The broken spear in my left hand felt leaden. Mana rose to my command again, and I knew that whatever energy I had left would not be enough to save me. At that moment, I realized it was hopeless. If I had not been so damn stupid and impatient or if I had prepared better, maybe...
No. Whining and ruminating on my failures would do nothing. My only choice was to run. I shifted my feet and prepared to turn and run, but I felt a chill as I realized the cold, harsh truth.
If I ran, it would catch me. Turning my back to this thing was suicidal even when I was unharmed, but now I was tired and wounded. In my condition, this thing would be on me in seconds, and even if I got into the woods by some miracle, what guarantee was there that it would not follow? I might as well lie down and hope the damn thing made it quick.
I was going to die here and now rather than years into the future. The realization tasted like ash, but there were only two other options when facing a stronger opponent, and running was no longer one.
But how do you kill a monster?
The creature made a harsh, stilted noise as I warred with myself. It sounded like it was taking in short, gasping breaths before letting them back out in a rhythmic cough. After a few seconds, I recognized the noise and all those familiar features I had dismissed as a coincidence resolved into a single, horrifying truth.
I examined the monster that had once been human, laughing at its wounded prey, and thought, trying to find anything to save my life. My eyes darted across the clearing, and I stretched out my senses, seeking any advantage or weapon to turn the battle.
As my mind brushed the Aether pool, I teetered on the edge of despair. If only I had the time to drink and absorb some of those waters, maybe then-
My mind ground to a stop, and I looked past the monster. It had its back to the pool again, but as I moved to the left, it mirrored the motion. Its grunting laugh grew louder, seeming content to savor my misery as I limped in a half-circle.
When my back was to the water, I reached inward and felt at my core and channels. The former was near-dry, and the latter felt worn and ragged like a cloth wrung out once too often. I had barely enough in me for one more trick.
I took as deep a breath as I could, turned, and sprinted for the pool. My ribs screamed, and I nearly stumbled before catching my balance. As I ran, the remaining dregs of mana flowed out of my core and down both legs before stopping at my feet.
Months ago, Master Barlow had advised me to consider what kind of mage I would become and how to get there. I had several spells in mind to answer that question but had set aside them all until I improved or had more time to work on them.
Now, my survival depended on untested spellcraft.
I heard the beast's laugh turn into a rageful howl and felt its mana tremble as it followed me. The instant it moved, I shoved my concentrated mana down and out in a single push.
My feet left the ground as the force threw me up and forward in a blur. The pain in my side redoubled, and I had to clench my teeth against a scream that was half-shock and half-agony.
The improvised spell brought me to the pool's edge, and I stumbled and fell forward, dropping my spear to one side in the scramble. I could hear the monster slam into where I had been an instant earlier but ignored it as I practically dunked my head into the water.
Its clawed hand closed around my ankle, and I opened my mouth, though whether to take a drink or scream, I could not say. Water poured down my throat, and I could feel my heart race as panic threatened to overtake me. The beast pulled me backward, turning me around and sinking clawed fingers into my chest as I forced a mouthful of water down.
A moment later, power filled me.
Bright mana surged into my core in a single wave. Dueling sensations of fire and snow poured through my body and down each limb. My back arched, my jaw locked into place, and my head spun. I had to force my eyes open and watched as the beast reared back and stumbled away, surprise clear even on its mangled features.
It caught itself a moment later, but as I lunged again, I threw both hands up and screamed. My renewed core answered my call, and a wave of green slammed into its chest, stronger than expected and enough to throw it back.
I rose to one knee and grabbed the wand still on my hip, throwing it forward as I pulled mana down and out. Three bolts fired, bright as the sun overhead, slicing flesh and bone and leaving behind coin-sized holes. The monster staggered away again, howled, and fell in a heap.
Mana slid around me into a new shield, yet more still seemed to flow out from my stomach and into my core. I gathered another set of bolts and launched it into the monster, who howled and attempted to disrupt my spells.
And failed.
When I went for the third volley, my arm hit its limit. Agony shot from my fingertips to my shoulder, and the wand fell from my grip. The mana I had already shaped broke free and launched in every direction, leaving the creature wounded but still very much alive.
The beast took its chance and shot up. Blood leaked from wounds severe enough I doubted it would survive, but it moved as if they were nothing. I raised my broken spear and shouted as it reached me.
Fangs tightened on my shoulder, and cracks formed everywhere along my shield's surface. The abomination threw us both to the ground, and I nearly blacked out as my already broken ribs shifted. It took everything in me to focus, sight my target, and stab.
The speartip sunk a half-foot into the side of its neck. It stiffened but did not release its grip. Instead, its attack grew more frenzied, and I had the feeling it meant to kill me before dying itself.
Panic swam up, and I realized I had seconds to do something. With only one option left, I pushed mana through my remaining arm, down the spear, and out the blade. Even weeks of practice had not allowed me to master strengthening a weapon, but I could destroy one.
The speartip held for a heartbeat, maybe two. Then, it shattered.
A hundred shards of green-tinted metal flew in all directions. They bounced off my shield, leaving almost invisible cracks wherever they struck, but none managed to penetrate. The best, however, was not so lucky.
The unprepared weapon glowed, then burst. A hundred shards of metal flew in every direction, an attack that would be suicidal if not for my shield.
Its neck vanished in a crimson explosion. Its head flew free, teeth sliding off the rounded surface of my shield, while its body remained stiff and crouched over me.
The monster's corpse remained fixed in place for another moment before it relaxed and fell on top of me. I managed to half-crawl away, but its bulk still pinned my right side to the dirt.
I lay there and took a single breath. When the beast did not move, I took a second and then a third.
Then, I began to laugh.
Comments
vdv9
Tyftc
Tom
He found the pool- and a monster.
