Bacon Macleod
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B3? Chapter 277: Flight, Finale
🕑 Added 2025-05-04 22:47:05 +0000 UTCKaius saw the exact moment his least favourite jailor realised that his men weren’t doing shit to slow him down.
The foppish bastard cursed, his breastplate clanking as a beast clawed him while he was distracted. Dispatching the cat-like thing with a quick stab, he yelled something to his hunter companion that was lost in the general clamour of the battle.
He’d already analysed them, and knew just what he would have to deal with. Level two-thirty-four and two-twenty-three; it’d be a tough fight, but just the kind of thing he hungered for to solidify the sparking realisation he had building in his chest.
The pair set off—abandoning their battalion to hold the gate alone.
As soon as they moved, out of the corner of his eye Kaius saw Kenva snap off a shot. Silks swished as the leader of the compound flickered to the side in a burst of speed. His ally’s attack did little to slow them. The pair's pace was unhalting—they wove through their men and spun around rabid creatures as they raced straight for them.
Grunting, Kaius assessed their speed as he flicked his eyes to the stairs. They were close—only fourty long-strides at most. Unfortunately, he knew there was little chance they would make it before they were intercepted.
“Big guys incoming; I'll hold them off if you can keep us moving.” he said through his bond, readying his blade.
“Got it.” Porkchop said, claws swiping out to disembowel a guard who got too close—they went down screaming, entrails tripping one of their companions.
They died seconds later.
The second tiers grew close; enough that he could finally target them with his spells. He knew, deep in his soul, that this would be the deciding moment of their escape. The confrontation that would mean freedom, or a slow death.
Mana billowed from him in a torrent, a glowing storm surrounding his hand as two branching snakes of burning white light erupted free to crackle and scream. Joined by a shower of energetic orange motes, they streamed through the air at the speed of thought.
Even though the pair must have been briefed on his ability to cast without channelling, they were still caught off guard by the sudden bolts of lighting he had summoned with his Stormlash.
Chains of scorching electricity and bone-cracking reverberations bound the two second tiers, pained screams erupting from their throats as they were scorched from within. Both of them were too strong and durable by half to be lethally wounded by a single spell, but Kaius could see the blackening on their armour, and the way that blood seeped from their nostrils.
Additional arcs branched out, filaments touching those who found themselves too close to the epicentre of his attack. Beast and man alike seized, shuddering violently before they collapsed stone cold.
Weak and fragile compared to his main targets, they didn’t survive.
*Ding! level 69 Frontier Monitor - Leafscaled Defender slain - Experience Gained! Reduced Experience for slaying a foe of Insignificant Strength!*
…
*Ding! level 82 Human - Bloodspiller slain - Experience Gained! Reduced Experience for slaying a foe of Insignificant Strength!*
“Bring them to me,” Kaius called in his brother's mind, tracking his team’s movements out of the corner of his eyes.
Kenva fired arrow after arrow into the roiling mass of beasts and guards, forcing them to take cover from her shots—and stopping them from interfering with his duel. Ianmus moved like clockwork, seemingly tracking half a dozen things at once as solar mana coalesced around Kaius once more—his Sundrenched Strength refreshed. Light lances snapped out immediately after, slaying the weaker members of the battle with precision beams that punched clean through skulls.
“Gladly,” Porkchop replied to his request.
Shoving back a particularly enraged deer, his brother punched the earth, and summoned a shardwall. It ripped upwards behind the second tiers, racing back towards Porkchop to shove them into Kaius’s waiting arms.
Still half stunned from his spell, they stumbled forwards.
He leapt to engage. One arm snapped up, a Hateful Nail flying towards the compound leader with such force that it cracked like a bullwhip.
The hunter by his side blurred—dual swords flashing in a shining arc as Kaius’s shard was sent spinning to the side in a shower of sparks. It erupted into a mired tangle of steel, nearly knocking a nearby guard off their feet when it slammed into their breastplate.
Kaius felt the yearning for violence grow within him, his bones aching for the heavy impact of steel on steel as the pillar in his soul started to croon.
Corporus was at the precipice of ignition. All he needed was a little bit more—a little more speed, a little more strength, a little more precision. Control, it was almost right. But not quite, there was something missing. Something fundamental about how he walked his path that existed beyond a simple master of the self.
He would find it soon—a hated foe and his lackey, second tiers no less, would be the perfect whetstone for his growth.
That resonance—that need to grow and change and adapt, he could feel it percolating in his marrow. Boiling in his blood. It was something core to him—core to not just his skills and kit, but his very being. Static things died, and he intended to reach the pinnacle.
“Keep the others safe. They’re mine.” He said, charging forwards with a scream on his lips.
“Don’t lose yourself.” Porkchop warned with a growl, before he annihilated a leaping double jointed spider-like beast with a heavy blow to its back. Hooking his claws into its prone body, he sent its carcass flying to bowl over a group of guards that were beginning to close in on Ianmus and Kenva.
“I won't,” he replied.
Kaius had no intention of stopping to fight the second tiers, nor leaving his team to their fate—freedom was paramount, even if it delayed his ignition, so he needed to keep a fighting retreat. At the same time, he knew there was very little chance that the two elites of the compound had any intention of letting them escape without a confrontation.
Closing the last few steps, Kaius forced the silk dressed leader to halt his charge with a well timed Nail—forcing the silk-drenched bastard to parry.
A wolf lunged, sensing the second tier was distracted. The hunter beside them flashed in, one sword contemptuously flicking out to decapitate the beast who dared to intrude on their duel.
“You should have just stayed in your cell.” their eyes roved over his armour, narrowing at the sight of his gear.
“You have no chance of winning this, and your end will be slow and painful when Old Yon learns that you destroyed his vault.” the foppish bastard spat, jabbing at him with a quick thrust. His ally followed close on his heels, moving to pincer Kaius.
“Fuck off, prick—I’ve been looking forward to this.” he replied with a glowering smile, smashing the thrust to the side, before he forced their hunter back with a sudden riposte.
“How’d you do it, anyway? Those cells were impenetrable, let alone that vault.” the fop replied, blurring into a conjoined flurry with their ally that forced Kaius back step by step.
“What? You want me to kiss and tell? At least have the decency of telling me your names first.” he mocked.
“Oh my, I suppose I have been rather rude. I am Cronte, and this,” he gestured to the hunter behind him. “Is Old Yon’s tracker, Torin.”
Kaius looked sharply at the hunter. “It was you, wasn’t it? With that team.”
Torin gave him a hateful grin. “So you were awake—shoulda taken Polix up on his offer.”
Kaius grunted, restraining himself from grinding his teeth. He filed the name away, another for his list.
Two bastards that he wanted to kill, standing right in front of him. He hated men like them. Those that brought shame to the god of delvers, Kaand, by their reliance on parasitic growth.
He locked his eyes on Cronte. “I made a promise to myself, in that room, that I would see you dead. I intend to keep it.”
Tapping into a wound packet of mana, Kaius cast Expedient Shunt. Force exploded behind him, arcane weavings directing all force into accelerating him directly towards the prison's leader.
Pulling on his wells of power, he infused his blade with Initiate's Glyphic Bladerite, layering the fire of his runes with the glowing wire of his Mystic’s Rend. The combination empowered each part, his blade howling as he cut in a heavy downward stroke.
Cronte flinched, shocked at his sudden movement. Still, even with the initiative against him, the leader of the compound was fast—his gleaming rapier swished up, deflecting Kaius’s longsword in a rising parry, before he disengaged their bind and lunged into a riposte.
Twirling his wrists, Kaius leaned on the final remnants of his explosive advance to smash the thrust up and to the side, spinning with the motion to put his hip into a slashing cut at the hunter, Torin — the man already racing forwards with his twin blades glowing with malevolent force.
The hunter pivoted, both blades rising to meet his own as they began to glow with the force of a Skill.
Leveraging the full weight of his strength, Kaius pushed against their bind—before suddenly raising his shoulder to take a thrust from Cronte on his pauldron.
Enhanced by his skills, his armour held—deflecting the rapier upwards as it scored a line in the metal.
Knowing he had to move fast, he slipped his off hand from his sword’s grip, firing a Hateful Nail at the hunter’s knee. Twisted metal blurred through the air, punching through the armor to tear through flesh.
Torin grunted, falling back as he gripped the explosion of gore.
Kaius clucked his tongue at the lack of damage as the hunter kicked off with his good leg—creating distance to wait in the safety of a squad of defenders.
A knave he might have been, but the man was durable. Still, the blow had all but crippled him—even with the persistence of the second tier, he would be out of the direct melee — and out of Kaius’s reach.
Switching to his other target, Kaius stunned Cronte with another Stormlash, searing their flesh before Kaius could land a thrust through his neck.
Capitalising on the distraction, the hunter grabbed a knife from his waist, infusing the weapon with a Skill. He hurled the blade.
It shattered a moment later, razor sharp shrapnel punching clean through Kaius’s armour to shred his flesh.
Ignoring the weeping heat that soared into his gambeson, Kaius fired a continuous barrage of four of his precious Nails at the blurring form of Cronte.
Every shot was an exercise in frustration, his angles of attack limited as Torrin threw knives from the safety of his massed allies that shielded him from retaliation. Kaius still did his best, leaning on every scrap of might and agility to bend and spin around the blows that would have punched through his armour like paper. Safe he might have stayed, but the interruption gave Conte all the time he needed to retaliate.
The man’s rapier shuddered, mana surging like a typhoon before it sliced the air faster than kaius could see—a surge of wind deflecting every screaming bolt with ease.
Kaius grit his teeth and switched to a Stormlash. Immaterial burning energy scorched his target—stealing a scream from their lips, and killing an unfortunate guard who drew too close to their confrontation.
*Ding! level 65 Human - Lurking Bruiser slain - Experience Gained! Reduced Experience for slaying a foe of Insignificant Strength!*
Tapping into Aelina, he moved on the opportunity, and cast a Slipstep before detonating another Shunt to send him flying towards his foe.
They tried to parry—fast and strong as they were, they were a tougher foe than the warrior he had killed in the Bonefields. But that discrepancy was lesser than his own development. He could win.
Liturgical Bladeform sang in his mind as he delved deeper into the flowing rhythms of the skill—mastery and control was one thing, but fluid unpredictability was equally as important.
He’d just barely scratched the surface of using blade and spell as a cohesive whole, something he would have to rectify if he was going to have any chance of defeating men of this power.
Offensive spells fell like rain as he burst around the courtyard, Slip Step allowing him to flicker unnaturally through the limited ocean of peace that had opened around his duel — even senseless beast’s preferring to take on easier prey in the face of the crashing thunder of blades.
Kaius was good, but Conte was fast and strong, his rapier possessing at once the bite of a viper and the inviolate defence of dragon scales. Plus the hunter, Torin, did not leave them to an honourable duel.
Every time he tried to push Conte, to catch him in an opening, the wounded hunter would fade out of the milling crowds of defenders that gathered, half watching, half fighting for their lives. Seemingly endless knives would fall, some bearing the touch of potent skills, to cut off his avenues of advance or retreat.
It was the purest frustration, and the greatest grindstone for the ember of insight that was building in Kaius’s chest.
Hammering the fop’s guard, Kaius cursed as Conte slipped out of their bind and lunged into a thrust. Infused steel punched deep into his chest, a whirling wind concentrated into a point around the man’s rapier that tore straight through his armour.
He coughed, tasting blood as he struggled to draw in breath. A minor wound—nothing that would slow him long.
When they pulled back, ready for a follow up, Kaius flicked his blade up—sending their attack high as he cast a Nail straight at their chest.
Conte baulked, forced to dodge. Stepping inwards, the leader of the compound slipped out of the path of his spell, and presented Kaius his side. He pressed.
Swirling into a smash, he kept them off balance, slipping a hand from his hilt to hurl a bolt of lightning at the fop’s pet hunter—with the durability of their stats, Kaius could already see the wound on the man’s knee healing, and he much preferred a fight where he wasn’t outnumbered. He nearly took a throwing knife through the throat in return, but his Lash landed as the hunter let out a pained scream.
Spinning back to his most pressing foe, Kaius hurled another Nail at Conte, forcing them to parry it with a burst of wind. In a single economy of motion, he flowed into a two handed cleave, activating a Bladerite and Rend in tandem as he tried to cut the bastard from shoulder to opposite hip.
They moved—wind surging to help them dodge.
Too slow.
Clean runed steel cut straight through their sword arm—the limb falling to the ground with finality.
Conte screamed—weak willed and pathetic. In a surprising display of persistence, he spun into motion, snatching their falling rapier by the hilt.
Before he could press the advantage, the hunter burst free of the greater melee like a dervish. His body burned with a sickly purple light, face twisted in agony and dripping with sweat as he ignored his maimed leg. Regardless of it was a Skill, or some artefact of last resort, it looked agonising — like he was burning his body from the inside out. Pain or no, skill or artefact, the ability boosted his physicality immensely. Both of his swords glowing with the power of Skill after Skill, falling on Kaius with the weight of a mountain.
He deflected what he could, but was forced back as cut after cut landed on his arms and chest. Agony erupted as blood soaked the stone of the courtyard, his life and limbs only saved by the prodigious reinforcement of his flesh and armour by Tempered by Dissonance. Flesh gave, but bones held.
“Re..retreat,” Conte gasped as backed up into the fighting troops behind him, his rapier sheathed and his lost arm gripped tight in his other. “We gain nothing for this—the compound is lost.”
The hunter growled, his eyes burning into Kaius. “Fine. This wasn’t worth the cash anyway.”
Kaius’s eyes widened in fury. He lunged for Torin, a Nail snapping out to try to cripple him before he could escape. Torin smirked as he grabbed his nearest ally and flung him into the path of the projectile. The guard screamed, only to be suddenly silenced as his Nail bloomed in its chest, tearing open the guard’s heart in a spray of bloom.
*Ding! level 62 Human - Swashbuckler slain - Experience Gained! Reduced Experience for slaying a foe of Insignificant Strength!*
Giving him a final, hateful, look the pair turned and ran, a burst of wind carrying them over the lesser battles that swamped the courtyard. Empowered by Conte’s skill, they moved with liquid grace and slipped around the countless small duels between desperate men and hungry beasts.
Kaius growled, frustration boiling in his gut at getting so close to the point of ignition. He knew that if he just pushed a little more, it would come.
He ached to make a final declaration, an oath of vengeance and blood shed — to pursue them like a spectre, hunting them down. He did not, there was too much at stake. It was a forgone conclusion, known to him and them in equal measure. If they met again, they would die. He had bested them today, the weakest he would ever be — next time there would be no pressing escape to save them.
He knew their faces now, and he had a long memory.
Gods’ scorn, it still burned that they escaped. Burned like all the fire in the hells. He was this close to igniting his aspect, and they were bastards in need of shallow graves.
Spitting on the courtyard, he ignored the white faces of the guards who had watched his engagement, and the slowly growing pool of red blood that stretched from his feet. Without their greatest members, the guards were doomed — and he could already feel his wounds healing.
The fleeing second tiers ignored him in favour of leaping for the far wall, leaving their lessers to their fates. They fled over the barrier, disappearing to the south.
Turning back to his team, he saw his brother stop a stag’s charge with his latest skill—arm caked in jagged jade. Empowered and stout, it blocked the attack with ease, before he spun into a blurring smash that connected with the beast’s spine.
It splashed on the stone below.
A moment later, a jade wall pushed through the throng surrounding them—finally opening their path to the stairs.
They were almost free.
The thought of that buoyed him slightly, cut through some of his frustration at the survival of Old Yon’s men. Their escape was all but a forgone conclusion — as long as they could break free of the beast’s encirclement, that is.
Rushing to rejoin his team, he capitalised on the fright of the guards to review the skill notifications that had been urging him for his attention since they had broken into the vault.
….
*Class Skill Notifications Consolidated!*
*Ding! Latent Glyph of Drakthar has reached level 121 > 124!*
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*Ding! Initiates Glyphic Bladerite has reached level 84 > 92!*
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*Ding! Latent Glyph of Aelina has reached level 114 > 116!*
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*Ding! Mystic’s Rend has reached level 57 > 66!*
*General Skill Notifications Consolidated!*
*Ding! Liturgical Bladeform: Primus Ordo has reached level 105 > 117!*
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*Ding! Explorer’s Toolkit has reached level 82 > 87!*
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*Ding! Truesight has reached level 89 > 95!*
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*Ding! Tonal Weaving has reached level 91 > 94!*
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*Ding! Resonance Amplification has reached level 88 > 91!*
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*Ding! Uncanny Dodge has reached level 101 > 111!*
A/N: It's here! ...and probably still needs more fine tuning. This should be a little frustrating in a way that makes you resonate with Kaius, but not in a 'this chapter sucks' kinda way. I think it's a lot better that the original after a little rewriting and 600 more words, but I didn't have time to run it past my beta again so it might not be 100% of the way to that. Regardless, I think it works a lot better in the context of the next couple of chapters-- I know if you do feel iffy about this, that isn't much of a balm lol. Such is the nature of serials. At least you wont be waiting long!
Comments
TETRATOLULENE
Several misspelled Cronte, missing an R
Rui Lourenço
The funny part is that Kaius is doing all this without two of his class skills! He's going to get a mage barrier and Porkchop is getting a buff!
