A number of the crow-people here are fighters; they all step forward, holding rickety spears that I assu are Firmant-enhanced. There's no guarantee they've stayed that way, though. I rember quite clearly the way the chairs just failed and fell apart, and there's no reason this will be any different.
Sothing about a Raid disrupts Firmant enchantnts, is my best guess. And the implications of that are worrying. I have no doubt this is going to keep happening, and if other places are even more reliant on Firmant...
It doesn't matter. I'm thinking too far ahead.
The children are being ushered away, but not nearly quickly enough; those harpies are descending fast, and the crows don't have the ti to evacuate their people. Half of them have barely even registered the danger I see so kids pointing excitedly to their parents, hopping up on their feet, struggling and fighting to stay.
That stops when they notice the missing arms. I force myself to ignore the screams. They know how to take care of their own, I tell myself. anwhile, if we want to stand any chance of beating this Raid, I have to think strategically.
I have three chances to make this work, and two skills that are my current assets Tough Skin, which is going to help passively anyway, and Temporal Echo, which won't be useful to until the next loop. My odds of beating this raid first try are low. I can't risk everything to try to beat it in one go. Whatever I do now should set up for the next one.
The harpies are getting closer. They're spreading out, too, I note; there isn't going to be a single defensible position. The crows are trying to organize, but failing spectacularly; it's clear that they've never prepared for this. They're tripping over themselves to try to get to the right positions.
Figure it out faster.
I risk a quick glance at my stats. My original plan was to wait them out and gather enough points to bank larger amounts at once, in the hope of getting a higher-rank skill. I might be forced to abandon those plans, and I make my peace with that.
If I want to deal with this many harpies at once, speed is going to be drastically more important, though that's at least partially dependent on how much these crows can help .
I glance at a crow, and note the way his spear is trembling in his hands. I note how scattered they still are.
...Best not to rely on that.
Strength is the least important of the three. It doesn't take that much effort to cleave through flesh when you have a scythe. It's the reason I was going to risk banking less points into it. I don't know that any Strength skill will help out here.
I'm going to have to build Reflex and Speed as fast as I can, I think. I get speed if I push myself to be fast
The harpies land, spread out, scattered across the village. A dozen exactly I count as rapidly as I can, filing the information away in my brain.
And then there's no more ti to think.
I launch myself forward, running as fast as I can; I'm not used to running like this, my weight thrown off balance by the scythe I'm carrying in a hand. The harpy closest to seems almost surprised by the sheer audacity of my approach, and it's probably that surprise that allows to score a deep gash on her flesh with the scythe before she screeches.
I duck. It's pure instinct, pure reflex; sothing in the world thrums when she does it, and a flash of mory the mory of Temporal Echo calling to , thrumming in the air turns into a split-second reaction.
The air visibly warps. A blast of compressed air rips out over my head, and the shockwave is enough to knock off balance and throw to the ground but considering it shatters the hut it strikes just behind , I got off lucky.
Not good enough. I'm too slow. The harpy kicks at with a clawed foot, and I roll out of the way just in ti; all around , the sounds of combat erupt, filling the air with a cacophony of noise.
And amid them, more screams. Those screams are the harpies' at first the screeching bursts of sound as they use their Firmant but then the screams turn wet and choked and broken.
I don't look back. I thrust the scythe forward instead, a hooking jab ant to slice through skin. The harpy dodges out of the way; the movent was too slow, too predictable, but I'm off balance and on the ground. The point is that it gives just enough ti to hop to my feet, and I rapidly swing the scythe again.
The harpy's nowhere near . It doesn't matter.
I'm setting up for the next run.
I take off almost imdiately, choosing the next closest harpy; the one I just fought is close behind, but I need to keep moving if I want to earn more Speed credits. I focus my eyes on my target instead, all too aware of the footsteps of the one behind , the thump of her feet against the dirt, the thrum in the air that tells she's going to scream
I dive just as I feel the Firmant finish accumulating, and the shockwave rips harmlessly over my head once again. I find myself almost directly next to the next harpy as a result, though, which ans I have no ti to relax; I throw myself to the side to avoid the scream from the second harpy, and I roll right into sothing warm and feathery and wet.
I force myself to my feet as fast as I can, ignoring the body. Ignoring both of the bodies, side by side. I ignore the way their heads are just gone, ripped to shreds by one of those sound attacks, feather and bone blasted apart like it's not even there.
I ignore how small one of them is.
The rage burns a little brighter.
My scythe rips towards the closest harpy. She opens her mouth to scream, and I instinctively step to the side, but just a hair too early; she follows, swinging her face towards in a way that's distinctly inhuman. I can almost hear the neck bones cracking. I grit my teeth, wait for the Firmant to accumulate so I can get just the right mont to dodge
except the harpy behind is also about to scream, and the thrum intensifies, throwing off my ability to figure out when the scream is going to trigger
and I realize I have a choice.
This is going to kill , either quickly or slowly; I can't dodge this entirely. I'm already in motion, and I can't completely change my montum on a di. I don't know how the shot behind is aid.
Which ans I have to bet on one thing. The harpy behind probably isn't going to be aiming directly at the other one.
Once more, I throw myself towards a monster.
I don't have the ti to calculate the perfect angle, the exact force. The best I can do is make sure my head stays out of the way of the shot, ducking as low as I can, twisting as she readjusts.
It's going to hit , but it's not going to hit in the head.
The sound blasts into my shoulder and rips an arm clean off.
The agony is intense.
But it's mine.
The second blast ripples through the air where my head would've been if I hadn't forced myself to turn. The shockwave still makes stagger and stumble, but in that stumble I manage to land the scythe sowhere in the middle of the harpy's chest. The one behind is most likely about to attack, so I throw myself forward, collapsing nearly entirely onto the ground. My detached arm is inches away from my head.
I can't fight like this. Not well. I'm dimly aware that I'm no longer holding on to my scythe, that I've left it buried inside that one harpy's chest. She doesn't seem like she's dead. I'm losing blood fast, I'm dizzy and nauseous...
But the longer I survive, the more Durability I gain; I fixate on that thought like it's a lifeline.
And if I manage to kill one of these harpies, I gain Firmant credits. A Firmant skill might change everything.
The harpy I fought first is struggling and slowing down just a bit. The gash I scored across her chest is deep, and she's been bleeding through it the entire fight. Her skin is pale, and her breathing cos in short, sharp gasps, she's moving a little slower than the other.
The second one has a scythe in her chest. She isn't bleeding. If I pull it out, it'll bleed; if I force it in further, it might pierce her heart.
I still need speed.
I force myself to my feet, and start running.
I just need to run as long as I can. They're dying, too. It's just a matter of who dies faster.
Not having an arm throws off more than having the scythe did.
Faster.
They're still chasing . I have a plan here, but the plan involves one of the harpies collapsing, or slowing down, or sothing. Neither of them are screaming, though, and that makes thankful, even if I have no idea why. Maybe they've drained whatever it is they need to use that skill. Maybe they're just playing with their prey.
Too bad for them. That's not what I am.
One of them trips. It's the first harpy she's bled enough now that she doesn't quite have the strength to move properly, and so her leg catches on a rock and she goes tumbling. I've been waiting for this mont, and so I reverse course imdiately, catching the second harpy off-guard; I make to grab at the scythe stuck in her chest.
But I try to reach out with my left hand. The missing hand.
A split-second mont is all it takes. The harpy rears back and kicks at , clawed feet digging straight into my stomach and sending tumbling back; I gasp with pain, struggling to hold on through blurry eyes. Sothing in my spine snaps. I don't bleed. The claws don't break through my Tough Skin.
Not that it matters. I can't move. I try, but I can't even wiggle my toes.
It's tempting to let go. I can fall into the next reset, the next loop; my injuries will be gone, and I'll have a brand new set of credits to play with.
But I need every last scrap I can get, and so I cling on.
I don't think the harpy notices that I'm still alive. She moves on imdiately, going off to slaughter more of the village; I try to move, to go after her, but I can't. The first harpy is still lying on the ground. She hasn't moved since she fell. Hope rises in my chest maybe she's bleeding out.
Maybe I have a chance.
If I can outlast her if she dies first, and I get a burst of durability... I rember how Tough Skin healed .
Seconds tick by. I bite my lip to keep myself from passing out. I grind the stump of my left arm into the dirt for that sharp spike of blistering pain, hoping against hope I can thread that edge of pain and unconsciousness.
I think about the Integrators. I think about the body of that little crow, the head torn clean off. I think about the way the mother's arms wrapped around her child in the mont of her death.
My anger grows, but my vision fades.
I only barely see the notification, a second before I slip into nothingness.
[ You have defeated an Elegy of the Lost (Rank E)! 7 Strength credits. 33 Durability credits. 17 Reflex credits. 15 Speed credits. 4 Firmant credits. ]
Durability credits. Spend.
[ Are you sure ]
Yes!
[ 38 Durability credits spent! Rolling for results... ]
[ CRITICAL ROLL. ]
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