Much as I enjoy cutting down my enemies like chaff, I wholeheartedly regret my decision to leave the triple crossbows and catapults behind.
Clumped together at the river crossing, the Defiled horde make for perfect targets as they scream and dance on the other side, impatiently awaiting their turn to cross while wholly indifferent to the fate which awaits them. Said fate is likely a ssy death at the end of my glaive as it carves a figure-eight through the air and slaughters any Defiled caught along the way. Bear Form Standing Fury is one of the last Insights Baledagh left with, but I completely forgot about it following the whole reveal. After unearthing the mory and working out the specifics, its co in handy for these long, drawn out engagents despite how silly it looks and feels.
Its a little like waving a giant flag on a pole back and forth while trying to stay level on a rocking boat, minus the actual flag or boat. Odd, but effective. Not as odd as Song reciting poetry on the battlefield, but her delivery is surprisingly evocative.
Though what Im doing seems simple enough, its physically and ntally engaging to pull off. Theres a flow to the continuous movent, with arms, shoulders, hips, and knees all working in tandem to minimize effort and maximize effect, with each pass of the glaive building on the last. Still, minimizing effort is not the sa as no effort at all, and after twenty minutes of repetitive motion, the strain is building up in my knees and obliques, those rarely used muscles at the side of my abdon. Add in my lack of sleep and dwindling Chi reserves thanks to constant Reinforcent and repetitive Amplification, I expect to topple over in exhaustion in ten or so minutes, but there are still many, many enemies left to kill. Bloodthirsty though they might be, the Defiled arent stupid, and even though we hold the terrain advantage, they have the numbers and they an to wear us down.
Having learned from observation, my latest opponent avoids running headlong into my glaive and tries to feint at the edge of my range, but I simply loosen my grip and Unity slides out to catch him between the ribs. Without Chi, the attack would probably glance off my opponents bones, but thanks to the magic of Amplification and Honing, it rends his chest open and slices through lungs and heart. Eyes wide with surprise, my latest victim falls to his knees where hell soon join the other corpses at his feet, to be stepped over or kicked aside by the next idiot dumb enough to approach.
Play stupid gas, win stupid prizes.
Or maybe not.
Surprise turns to panic in my fallen foes eyes, which then gives way to hatred and resignation, his accusing glare first directed towards the water and then at , blaming the slippery terrain for getting in his way and condemning for killing him, even though he ant to do worse. Murky blood spills from his mouth as he moves his lips, his voice silent due to the lack of connected lungs, yet for so reason, its like hes gaining vitality when it should be draining away. Back straight and shoulders squared, he lifts his head high in a silent cry of triumph, not what youd expect from a man whos already drawn his last breath. A small part of marvels at his tenacity and wonders how hes still alive, even as Unity swoops back around to take his head and offer the small rcy of death.
Im just glad his face is covered with a headwrap. It dehumanizes him and makes it easier not to empathize.
Just as Unity is about to reach his neck, soone grabs by the scruff and pulls away, my feet lifted off the ground while the blade cuts through empty air. Fall back! Argat booms, his Chi-infused voice rising over the din of battle. Fall back to the wagons!
Irritated at being dragged around like a misbehaving kitten, my angry snarl dies on my lips and a chill runs down my spine as the Spectres circle around my dying foe in a vortex of coordinated chaos. For the first ti, I witness the Spectres affect the physical world as they surge into the Defiled warriors chest wound, bringing multiple spiralling streams of water along with them. No, not just water, but blood and flesh too, the corpses of his fallen comrades lting as the Spectres pass by, then carried along by the gushing water and fed into his chest cavity. Body swelling like a balloon, his skin bulges and stretches from the excessive fluids before contracting inwards, then expanding even larger than before as his unholy feast shows no signs of slowing. Growing with each throbbing pulse of his body, his headwrap explodes to reveal a water-logged face, and the rest of his skin takes on the sa grey-white cast, no longer dried and wrinkled but smooth and engorged as if hed been subrged underwater for several days and stretched out over a too large fra.
The detached, clinical part of my brain which isnt gibbering in terror notes the Spectres are being consud in the sa manner I Devour them, though these ones appear willing to go along for the ride. Then again, the Spectres back in Sanshu were pretty happy to be Devoured and I didnt encounter resistance until coming to the front lines. Another piece of another puzzle I cannot comprehend, but I see that water, flesh and Heavenly Energy are required to fuel this particular horrific tamorphosis.
What good this does... well... who knows.
The Demons Aura collides against my own and snaps out of my fugue, a stark reminder Im still alive and should probably do sothing if I want to stay that way. Tearing my eyes away from the burgeoning, water-logged abomination, I ask, So... wouldnt now be a good ti to kill it? You know... while its busy... growing?
My question earns an inquisitive stare from Argat, a single eyebrow raised in minor bewildernt. Giving a slow shake of his head, he drawls, Best to leave the Demon alone and let things run their course; Ichor will ruin a Spiritual Weapon and cripple your Core if you strike before its finished. Besides, he adds, turning his eyes back to the Demon, The Father often casts His gaze upon His birthing children, and Id rather not draw His attention any more than I have to.
...Wow. Glad I couldnt kill Vivek before he finished transforming. Just another ti where my failure was actually a success, I suppose.
Now that Argat ntions it, I realize none of the Defiled are moving either, having withdrawn out of the shallows and back to dry land to celebrate the birth of their new Transcendent. A fresh wave of dread leaves reeling in place as I realize where the epithet ca from, my captured Spectres howling the title in an uncontrolled frenzy while demanding I release them to join their comrades to form what surely must be the fattest, ugliest Demon in existence. A thought crosses my mind to Devour the errant Spectres and keep them from the Demon, but I discard it imdiately as I track down the source. My captured Spectres want to try because doing so would offer them the escape they so desire, their subtle manipulations made obvious by crazed desperation.
Okay, ntal note: My Succ is less than Demon birthing Succ.
...I wish my life wasnt so weird.
Move these wagons and make a space. Swaggering out of the crowd with wine gourd in hand, Lei Gongs confident deanour is reflected in his steady, unwavering Aura, uplifting everyone out of their shock as they scramble to obey. Marching over to my side, he puts the gourd away, which is usually a sign of tough tis ahead. The waters receding, so reposition yer line to et a wider front. I suggest ye send yer tired boys to guard the back and bring yer second up with the Death Corps. No more arrows fer now, no sense inciting a charge before we need to, but leave em to rest in reserve. Switching to Sending, he eyes Argat and Jochi before adding, Ye stick around too. Best keep all the heavy hitters nearby, cuz this bigun is gonna be trouble. Its clear as day the creature has Awakened to Water, which ans it wont be easy to kill.
Deferring to his expertise without questions, I give the orders and move back as my people scramble into position, keeping XinYue, Sai Chou, Dastan, and Sahb nearby just in case. Daxian is already here, having arrived soti during my stupor to pose beneath the moonlight with his spear pointed down and head held high, the very picture of unconcerned composure beside Jochi and Argat. Tenjin and Tursinai also make their way to the front, while Li Song shuffles to my side with uncharacteristic fatigue, her ears flat and tail lashing as the Death Corps form up on either side. The seconds tick by as my people move into place, Wang Bao and Ulfsaar joining my second string of Experts while the fresh mbers of Phoenix Squad set about reinforcing Tiger. The stifling atmosphere threatens to overwhelm us as the Demon pulsates and grows, already standing over three tres high with a rotund belly almost double that in girth, a corpulent behemoth with bulky legs thick as tree trunks and arms longer than I am tall.
I shall na him Pudge, because he is a fat and disgusting abomination.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bulat and the others loading up their Spiritual Guns and I curse myself for not doing the sa. Fumbling around the cross-guard, I hit the release and twist the haft, turning the elegant glaive into an ugly axe with a series of crisp, chanical clicks. Holding the weapon point down, I work the crank to compress the spring while fumbling around my side pouches for ammunition. Finally finding the right pouch, I give a quiet, triumphant cry as I slam the spherical steel bullet into the readied chamber and hold Unity ready, my finger close to but not on the trigger and the barrel pointed down.
Conscious of the curious stares, I find an open line of fire behind the first string Experts and gesture for my other gunn to join . Sounding calr than I have any right to be, I say, Wait a mont before you attack, let and my people take a crack at it first.
Though hes seen us practising with our spring-loaded guns and was suitably impressed, Lei Gong thinks them too cumberso and inconvenient for sothing well maybe use once per battle, but hell humour if I insist. Wont be much ti to let ye know when its safe and no telling if itll stand still and smile pretty. Might have to move against it and Id rather not get shot in the back.
Eyeing the diminishing cloud of Spectres around Pudge, I give a reassuring nod. Dont worry about it.
Easy to say when it aint yer hide. Regardless of his misgivings, Lei Gong shrugs and settles into place, smacking his cane against his aty palm in anticipation of the battle ahead. Annoying as always, Daxian stops posing to move to the far side of the group, putting as many bodies between my guns and himself as he possibly can, though to be fair, I would do the sa in his shoes. Sparing a mont to glance at my soldiers, I say, Wait for my signal, then fall back into line. My beloved betrothed worked hard on those weapons, and Id rather not see them turn to junk right after their debut.
Their new Runic shields strapped across their backs, Bulat, Viyan, Birca, and Silva chuckle nervously from beneath their open faced helts, looking sharp and heroic in the best steel armour money can buy. Similarly armoured minus the shields, Pran and Saluk grin and nod, eager to test their precious weapons against a Demon and unlikely to care if its with gun or hamr. Standing still as a statue, Siyar barely acknowledges the order until Ravil elbows him in the ribs, which earns a scowl as if Im sohow to bla. While the two of them couldnt be any more physically different, theyre both cut from the sa cloth, refusing plate armour and Runic shields with the sa excuse, claiming it would slow them down in a fight.
Having seen them in action, I believe it. Ravil was always a dangerous bastard, but instinct tells Siyar isnt far behind.
These are my elites, the soldiers Ive invested so much into, standing at my side to fire our inaugural volley. If this works, then maybe I can finally convince Mila of their effectiveness and get her to make more. Much like any artist, shes a little touchy when it cos to her work, preferring to follow her muse and test her limits instead of buckling down to go with what works. I
...
Nice try Spectres, but Im razor focused today.
Raising my gun, I take aim and prepare to fire. The pond recedes and the river slows to a trickle as the Spectres direct a continuous torrent into Pudges gaping chest wound, and a fetid stench assails my senses, a combination of raw sewage and rank mold alongside a few other high notes. As more Spectres are consud and fewer remain, the torrent slows enough to reveal a cavernous maw where the wound once stood, large enough to fit a grown man inside and complete with razor sharp fangs and long, sinuous tongue. The face itself has no nose or mouth, its feature smoothed over with slick, greyish skin under blue, bulging, hate-filled eyes which are still fixated on my own.
So... I guess Pudge still rembers . Thats not unsettling at all.
It feels like an eternity since the transformation started, but by my best guess its probably been three minutes at most. Three, stressful, intense, unnerving minutes, but judging by the few Spectres still left, not much longer to go. When their numbers dwindle to a dozen remaining, I say, Steady. Trigger. Pause. Hamr. At five left, I focus on my Amplification Keystone, the natal hamr raised and ready to drop. Aim. Trigger. Pause. Hamr. Not at the sa ti, but not too long a pause. You can do this. Trigger. Pause. Hamr.
And as the last Spectre slips into the horrifying chest-mouth, I pull the trigger, pause, drop the hamr, and shout, Fire!
Our guns roar in thunderous salute as the Demon cos to life, cordially greeting the newborn monster with nine bullets moving at the speed of sound. Rocked by the impact, Pudge reels in place as seven, Ichor-spurting craters form across its abdon, the majority of shots including my own aid at its broad belly. As Pudge straightens up, we see its two ruined eyes courtesy of Ravil and Siyar, and the battlefield falls silent as Imperial and Defiled alike struggle to co to terms with what we just witnessed.
Is it dead? A living creature would be dead, but Demons arent exactly living, so...?
Opening its chest-mouth wide, Pudge reveals a reddish-pink gullet and lets loose with a bestial roar of fury, confirming my suspicion that it is indeed, not dead. To my great dismay, its sightless eyes track as I move back into line with my soldiers, sohow still able to perceive my location despite its lack of vision. Chalking it up to another unsolved mystery, I debate reloading for a second shot when Pudges scream is cut short by a blinding flash of light followed by a deafening clap of thunder.
Wooo, Lord of Thunder Lei Gong!
My vision clears and high spirits give way to consternation as Pudge stands unscathed behind a shimring shield of water, one which covers its entire hefty fra. A second bolt of lightning crashes into the Demon, but again, the shield stops it cold. Reacting to an unseen attack, Lei Gong dodges aside as sothing smashes into the ground a few ters behind him, raising a furrow of mud and dirt before knocking three Death Corps Soldiers off their feet. A water bullet maybe? Luckily, Pudge is tall and the projectile was angled downwards, else those Death Corps soldiers wouldnt have escaped with just a few scrapes and bruises.
The Defiled stomp and cheer in the background, content to stand and watch their Transcendent clean up, so I signal my soldiers to do the sa. It makes sense, because if Lei Gong really wanted to go all out, he could easily wipe out a good portion of the Defiled on his own, and the sa could be said of Pudge. Hell, the fat fucker could lie on the grass and roll over my retinue and wed probably be helpless to stop it.
No longer playing around, Lei Gong unleashes a storm of lightning. When the light show dies down and my vision returns, I find the battle in full swing as Pudge chases Lei Gong, throwing wide, predictable punches which most people would be hard pressed to avoid, given its incredible speed and trendous reach. That said, the Lord of Thunder can hardly be counted as most people, nor can Tenjin and Tursinai who take the field. Each falls into their respective roles with ease, as if this were the umpteenth ti they'd fought side by side, rather than their first ti ever. Lei Gong holds Pudges attention with dazzling blasts of lightning, while Tursinai impedes its movents by tangling its legs, a dangerous ga of push and pull which could end in disaster. Too much slack and the Pudge roams freely, but not enough a single yank could pull her into the Demons crushing embrace. anwhile, Tenjin nips at its heels, unleashing a storm of mundane throwing knives which puncture soggy flesh, but doing little damage otherwise.
The three remaining Experts on the field each pick a partner and stick close by, their spears held at the ready to help defend should their partner require it. Wondering why Jochi, Argat, and Daxian dont just rush in and nail a foot down or sothing, my unspoken question is soon answered by the Demon itself. Weary of chasing Lei Gong, the Demons water shield collapses and the liquid adheres to its fists, forming six rippling tendrils which lash out independently at its foes. The Imperial Experts back away to avoid its reach, though if theyd been any closer, then they undoubtedly wouldve been caught. Freed from Tursinais ensnaring chain, the Demon charges at Lei Gong to end the incessant bolts of lightning, but the Lord of Thunder is not so easily caught. Hurling his cane like a javelin, the Spiritual Weapon smashes into an empty eye-socket and pierces clean through Pudges head. Staggered but not downed, its tendrils go wild but Daxian is in place to defend, his spear fending off multiple attacks while Lei Gong gathers his Chi and unleashes the most powerful strike yet. Night turns to day as an orb of lightning erges from Lei Gongs cane, covering Pudges face in an explosion of electrical discharge. A rapid-fire series of thunderclaps deafens my ears and shakes to the bones, but right before the world fades back to dark, I see Tenjin sailing through the air with his blazing twin daggers aid at Pudges wide, unprotected back.
Wishing I had so way to protect my vision, I set to repairing my ruptured eardrums the old fashioned way while blinking repeatedly, hoping to see or hear sothing to tell whats going on. Long seconds pass before my eyesight returns, and once it does I wish it hadnt. Though its face is a blackened ss and its back spurting Ichor, Pudge continues its rampage against the Imperial Elites. Tursinais weapon dangles in its fist while the wielder herself kneels by her fallen hubby, laying in an indent in the dirt where hed been slamd. As I watch in horror, a watery tendril slips past Jochis guard to strike his leg and his bones crumple like tissue upon impact. A follow up strike misses as Argat drags his screaming brother away from battle, paying no heed to pain hes causing in order to save a life.
Only Lei Gong and Daxian remain on the battlefield, and neither one looks in good condition. Planting Unity in the dirt, I draw Peace and launch it without thinking, hoping to get lucky and kill in a single blow, but the Honed blade sinks into Pudges skull with almost no effect. Reminded of my existence, it turns those empty sockets towards , an almost comical sight with my sword stuck through its skull and Lei Gongs cane in its eye. Raising a aty arm, Pudge extends a razor-tipped finger and reforms its shield, the water rippling briefly before firing out. My throat tightens as my vision goes dark, and a tallic crash sounds out, but not the chi of a bell or the ring of a sword, more of a crumpled bang youd expect from driving a car into a solid stone wall. Taking a step back out of reflex, a brigandine chest-piece cos into focus, the word Virtuous neatly engraved in the centre.
Holy shit, did Daxian just leap in front of to take a water bullet?
Peering around my prickly would-be hero, Im relieved to see yet another person standing in front of Daxian, my heros daddy dripping wet from head to toe in his ragged shirt and all the sexier for it. With a throaty growl which echoes over the silent battlefield, GangShu scowls at his ruined clothes and declares, This one is under my protection, Demon. Ive been ordered to keep to the Treaty to not escalate the situation, so best you fuck off now.
Sightless eyes narrowed in rage, Pudge advances a single, step, but GangShu suddenly appears in front of the Demon, standing right up against the shimring shield of water. Seems you dont understand Common, so lets try a different language.
GangShu is neither particularly tall nor wide, a lithe man who is broad of shoulder and slim of waist, with a shocking amount of body hair beneath his torn shirt. Arms crossed as he stands in Pudges path, he looks like a hairy, petulant child trying to bar the path of a massive adult. As the Demon winds up to punch, I cant help but wince in anticipation. Even if hes an Ancestral Beast, the laws of physics still apply, which ans
Jack shit, it seems.
A full-on haymaker hamrs ho into GangShus shoulder and the Ancestral Beast barely shifts, though the wind from the attack is enough to send clumps of wet dirt flying. Rather than a aty thunk, Pudges fist emits a crumpled bang and implodes on impact, the sa sound I heard earlier while Daxian was blocking my vision.
So GangShu didnt put up any fancy Chi shields and just blocked the water bullet with his bare body. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.
Retracting its broken fist, Pudge raises its other arm and lands another haymaker to the sa effect. tallic crumple, broken flesh, Ancestral Beast standing in place. Still unwilling to give up, the Demon leans forward as if intending to swallow GangShu whole, but with a wave of his hand, he sends Pudge flying back to crash into the clustered ranks of Defiled, water shield and all. Rolling to its feet, its shield lts away and gushes out to dissolve the Defiled whod been pulped by its passing. Before long, the liquefied remains flow back into Pudges gullet, though its injuries show no sign of recovering.
Well, thats one thing to be grateful for. Its strong, fast, durable, has a shield, multiple whips, and speedy bullets, but at least it doesnt Heal too quickly.
Ripping Lei Gongs cane, Tenjins daggers, and my sword out of its flesh, Pudge screeches one last ti before marching west, reaching decent speeds with its squelching, ponderous stride. Heart pounding and knees weak even though all I did was stand around, my mind blanks as GangShu flashes his charming smile and says, Well, my parts done here. Ill leave the cleanup to you. Before I can ask him to clarify, the forgotten Defiled horde scream their battle cries and charge across the shrunken pond and trickling river, unfazed by the herculean battle we all just witnessed. Screaming back to calm my nerves, I take up Unity in its axe form and charge into the fray, happy to abandon all thought and kill so Defiled.
If thats what top tier fights are like, then maybe Im better off not getting stronger...
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