“We don’t need to turn back. I’m fairly certain I know where this passage leads. Follow .”
Those were Hilda’s words 5 minutes ago. Right now, we were still jogging forward, with no Bern in sight.
“Are you sure this is-”
“Yes. We should be close. One more minute-”
Clang!
The sound of steel clashing against steel reached our ears, loud enough for the black-haired woman to hear as well.
“What? That’s not..”
“Does it matter? It’s probably them! Let’s go!”
I dove into the side passage from which the sounds originated, with Hilda not far behind.
I heard a few more clashes, including that of so light blade and a shield. Beyond that, I also heard the sound of claw scraping tal.
A few monts later, I heard…
“Incoming! Three n.. three beasts?”
I was fairly certain of what I heard. There was no mistaking the sounds of those who ran our way.
‘No, could it actually be…’
The curving passage had no exits. A few seconds later, roughly 12 ters ahead of us, we saw the running beasts – three imperial hounds. Another mont later, three n erged behind them.
As they saw us, the n, whose glowing eyes indicated the usage of a darkvision potion, grinded to a halt, with their ‘service animals’ stopping as well, emitting low growls filled with ferocity.
“Y-you?..”
I recognized two of those n.
“It’s really him?..”
A big man with short black hair and a hideous face, wielding a halberd, turned his head towards his companion – a man whose face was full of scars, wielding two swords, which were curved forward.
“It’s him, ain’t it, boss? The bastard who killed Fluffy?”
The man beside him - whose na, Claw, I managed to recall just now - nodded, his eyes cold and calculating. The first man - Smallclaw or sothing - turned his ugly face towards us once more, his hands, holding the weapon’s long shaft, trembling with rage.
“You BASTARD! I’LL SKIN YOU ALIVE!”
“Arwooo!!”
“Wraff! Wraff!”
At his wrathful roar, the ‘dogs’ joined in, spraying saliva over the gray rocky floor.
When I looked at the spectacle, I felt.. strange.
Less than 2 weeks ago, even two of those guys felt pretty dangerous. However, now, faced with 3 hounds and 3 n, I felt this was a very-much-so winnable fight, at least with Hilda at my back.
“Don’t use the sphere.”
“I might use it near the end.”
“Fine.”
This was the extent of our strategic discussion. anwhile, the n quietly whispered among themselves, as well.
“Oi! You dogs gonna co at , or what?”
The humans turned their heads at my shout, while the beasts growled with hatred.
“Afraid of losing another pet?”
At my final taunt, the leader nodded at his henchn, who began to slowly advance.
The third man wielded a crossbow, with a short sword at his waist. It felt all three of them were Path-bearers, yet only the leader was above level 1, and only barely.
Still, against 3 Iron Path-bearers and 3 RCR1 beasts, I couldn’t allow myself to get complacent. Switching to Arcane Sense, I focused on the battlefield.
The tunnel was over 4 ters wide, reaching as far as 5 in so sections. This wasn’t good – I couldn’t really make use of my mobility, while it was still big enough for 2 to 3 enemies to surround , or, rather, slip into the backline.
Tchang!
The first shot was launched by the enemy Path-bearer. Judging by the movent of Arcane Tides, as well as its movent, it was the sa basic tracking shot skill I’ve seen more than once by now.
Tzzng!
I barely made it, even with my reflexes, but I still managed to deflect the bolt, flying towards Hilda, using the broad side of my blade – the Arcane Harmony, which I was still in my hands since that cavern.
Tchi-tching!
Two similar, albeit slightly smaller bolts, shot towards the nearest hound, the one at our right. They aid at its front shoulders – however, the beast, possessing excellent instincts, jumped to the side at the last mont.
One of the bolts completely missed, while the other, mildly adjusting its trajectory, managed to hit the monster’s hind leg, on the other side from where it originally aid. It penetrated the scales – however, the wound was evidently not that deep, as the creature rely growled in anger.
I began to advance forward as well, staying slightly closer to the right wall, keeping it just beyond my sword’s reach.
“Grr!”
One of the Imperial Abominations, the one wounded, stayed behind, together with its presud crossbow-wielding owner. The other two stepped to the side of - and slightly behind - their owners, waiting for an opportunity to pounce forward.
The rough-faced man took a step forward, readying his halberd. I placed my sword in a sowhat defensive stance – the Scythe Bear one, the training of which I hadn't neglected.
However, he did not intend to attack yet, but to simply threaten my space – all while his boss charged to the side, attempting to circle , while the ‘dog’ dashed along the wall, even farther away.
crash!..
In the distance, I heard the sound of what was a massive hamr or mace head crash with what I could only assu was Ornor's shield.
‘I have to finish this quickly!’
They've seen my movent Skill before. Judging by the subtle tension in Smallclaw's muscles, and the very subtle Tide fluctuations around his arms, and his slightly bent legs, he must have prepared to strike if I were to turn my flank to him right now, or leap after if I tried to retreat.
The dual wielding man was already almost at my left, while the ‘dog’ was even farther away, dashing towards where Hilda was still reloading.
In a split-second decision, I decided on my course of action. After all, while they’ve seen my [Charge] back then…
I turned slightly to the left, facing the dual-wielding gangster, who also raised his swords. His partner began to charge his Skill.. as I lightly bent my knees at the sa ti.
[Charge] !
…They didn’t know my angle of movent was much bigger now.
I felt the halberd flash at the spot I was just an instant ago, as the second man raised his 2 swords defensively out of pure instinct, likely in preparation to counterattack when I’d charge directly at him from close range.
However, my target was the hound, which turned its head at the last mont. It twisted its body mid-leap, trying to sohow avoid my sword..
[Thrust] !
..however, against soone with 2nd realm Agility, that was impossible.
Executing my Skill in a disjoint manner, part of the [Charge] montum was absorbed by the body of the beast, while the rest was absorbed by the stony wall, the recoil still causing so numbness in my hands.
“Woowoo…”
I didn’t have ti to focus on the dying beast, because, as its amber blood sprayed at my leather armor - which was damaged by that demon - another attacker jumped at from behind, his two swords raised, with the Tides lightly shifting around them.
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Another split-second decision. Although I could have abandoned the sword, charging towards Hilda while drawing my spare blade, that would prolong the fight, which was sothing I refused to allow.
Instead, in a single motion, I pulled the blade with both hands, using the backwards montum to turn around, while letting go of the hilt with my right hand, and raising my arm-shield to et the strike closer to the beginning of its arc.
Clank!
The two curved swords, augnted by the skill, cleaved through my arm shield, as well as my leather sleeve.. and the steel links of my chainmail sleeve, as well.
I felt my arm almost buckle, as the swords cut through my tense muscles. However, they failed to reach the bone.
At the sa ti…
During the endless hours of training, I’ve co to learn many things about Sebastian’s body. One particular thing was – he was ambidextrous.
And, like I’ve said before… Neither of my offensive skills was strictly two-handed.
[Arc-Slash] !
Although the force of my already weakened - but faster - Skill was even further reduced by the awkward grip, which I’ve only trained several tis, and only recently, it was still enough to cut through whatever armor protected Claw’s torso, slashing through so internal organs, going about 1½ blade’s widths deep.
The man’s body tilted to the side, and, for a mont, even through the outlines ‘visible’ to in the Tides, I could see his eyes open in shock.
The next mont, he withdrew his blades. However, whether he intended to attack one last ti or not, his arms barely listened.
At the sa ti, I felt the warm liquid drenching the shirt under my armor. The pain, which I was certain would co soon, was delayed by the sheer adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Regardless, it wasn’t ti to relax, as a Skill-augnted halberd was about to descend onto .
[Charge] !!!
Although I didn’t have ti to properly dislodge the sword, my left hand’s grip on the hilt was just barely enough for it to break free.
However, the resistance, multiplied many-fold by my near-instantaneous movent, caused the arm itself to buckle, as the weight at the end of said hilt painfully crushed into my abdon mid-charge.
This was especially unpleasant – even though the demon-induced injuries were healed by the potion, I haven’t braced my abs for this impact, which sent a painful wave through my insides.
And yet, I managed to avoid stumbling… only to see a hound pouncing from the right, aiming for the spot I’d arrive at in less than a mont.
Beginning to turn my body mid-motion, I used my left arm to raise the sword…
[Thrust] !!
The blade penetrated the creature’s gaping maw, piercing its skull. However, its heavy body still managed to topple , carried by its montum.
As I was falling back, I noticed another shift in the Tides – the marksman was preparing another ‘tracking shot’!
I had no way to dodge. I already saw the future trajectory of the bolt, which would arrive at my head just as my back would hit the ground. Even if I were to twist my body, I had no doubt this Skill-augnted projectile would find its target.
In a last-ditch effort, I raised my injured arm. Maybe ‘catching’ the bolt would at least soften the blow to my skull, although I had a feeling it would pierce through, regardless.
‘Anything!..’
Suddenly, almost on instinct, I did sothing I’ve done many tis when raising my hand – condense the tides around it.
Usually - if that word could be applied after only a couple of days - it would create a rough outline, which, at least last night, I could clumsily control, at least within the range of a ter or so.
However, what I needed wasn’t a Mage Hand, but a shield!
Sohow, not even fully realizing what I did, my mind conjured an amalgamation of the usual Mage Hand energy, but closer to the shape and flow of Elental Ward.
The result was a translucent, pulsating mass of energy – not quite a barrier, but not quite a Mage Hand, either.
Tchaaa!
The not-quiet-barrier shattered instantly as the bolt hit it, and I felt my arcane reserves - which only began to slowly refill after the cultist cavern - drop to dangerously low levels.
However, the piercing impact I was prepared for never ca – well, so of it did, as the bolt lodged itself into my flesh and bounced off my bones, sending my hand flying back while giving an indescribably unpleasant sensation of vibrating bone.
“What in the hells!?..”
While the gangster scrambled to reload, I pushed my feet off the ground, pulling my sword with the healthy hand, dislodging it from the hound’s skull as I stood back up.
“Arwf!”
I bent my aching knees, about to [Charge] away from the hound’s pounce, only to instead leap forward, towards the bandit.
As he dropped his crossbow, reaching for the sword at his waist, a ‘Spiraling Shot’ of two bolts penetrated the last monster’s skull, putting it out of its misery.
“Furry!.. You BLOODY WHORE!”
While the halberd wieldier, located sowhere between and Hilde, cried with a mix of fury and sorrow at the loss of his second pet, I leapt toward the other man, who was about to draw his sword, while leaping back himself.
[Arc-Slash] !
The top of the blade flashed across his neck, with a red spray following a mont later.
“Go! I’ll handle him!”
Hearing Hilda’s retreating voice, and the footsteps of the gangster rushing after her, I turned towards the direction the Undercity Hounds ca from.
‘She can do it.’
I had no doubt in my mind a level 3 Deadeye (or whatever her Path was) would be able to finish the job. Instead, I was more worried about the second crushing sound I heard, coming from up ahead.
However, rather than sprint forward, I started walking in a sowhat slow step.
First thing I did was return the sword to its sheath. Then, with my healthy hand, I reach for the last remaining ⅖ of my high-grade potion.
‘This is gonna hurt…’
Among the many things I overheard while training at the guild, was the fact that almost any flesh wound could be healed with a sufficiently strong potion. Both of my wounds were of that nature.
However, simply drinking the potion would distribute the effect across the entire body, reducing the efficiency. Instead, there was a more direct, albeit more painful way.
Tsss!
“Argh!..”
The liquid, poured straight into the two gashes on my right arm, felt like liquid lava. For a second, I thought my teeth would be ground to dust, yet I endured, watching the muscle fibers repair themselves in real ti. The flesh and skin would likely follow soon after.
‘God damn it…’
I turned my arm around, raising my palm. This might’ve been overkill, but I didn’t want my hand to give out at the decisive mont.
Tsssss!
Taking care of my second deep wound, almost starting to see white at the edges of my vision (my Arcane Sense failed earlier due to the pain), I tossed away the now-worthless vial, silently thanking it for its service. Even if that service cost 150 gold.
My steps turned into a sprint, as I drew the Adamantium Arm once again. I was still holding it with one hand, yet, despite the pain only mildly subsiding, I knew I’d be able to wield it properly in a dozen seconds or so.
“Huaa!”
As I stepped into a - roughly - 6 by 10 cavern, the first thing I ‘saw’ was a dead hound near its wall, its skull cleaved in two.
CRASH!
At the other side, a large man, wielding a fittingly large greatmace, used an offensive Skill, bringing it down upon a battered steel shield – a shield I recognized even with its deformities.
“Ugh!”
Ornor’s strained grunt was followed by him taking two more steps back, deeper into the narrow passage he was protecting.
The man in front of him seed tired, as well, yet the situation obviously wasn’t in the dwarf’s favor.
[Charge] !
Before the man could fully raise his mace again, I covered most of the cavern’s length. The man began spinning around, turning his head-
[Charge Thrust] !!!
Before his mace could co down, my sword split his skull, splashing blood, gray goo and brain bits all around, vaguely recreating the nearby scene with the dead hound.
“Sebastian!”
Ornor’s voice was strained. His shield arm fell, helplessly dangling at his side.
“Where-”
“She’ll be here in a bit!”
CLANG!
I wanted to ask where Bern was, but the clang from the other cavern, behind the 4-ter-long passage, which sounded like the clash of two large blades, served as the answer.
Without saying a word, the dwarf leaned against the stone, letting pass. Or, rather, he tumbled down, as his legs buckled.
While emptying my last Stamina potion, reaching full-on potion fatigue on all fronts, I sprinted forward.
A larger, 10 by 20 cavern - with the passage I ca from right at its middle - registered in my Arcane sense.
The ground was covered with bodies – 5 hounds, 6 n. Bern, his breath ragged, was tumbling back, striving to regain his balance, his sword lowered, and his arms – trembling ever-so-slightly.
At the sa ti, another man, wielding a greatsword, launched at him, using a thrusting Skill (perhaps the exact one I used).
Simultaneously, the two remaining hounds, who were awaiting at his flanks, launched their attacks as well, leaping towards Bern’s arms, their mouths spraying saliva all over the cold stone.
Suddenly, Bern’s uneven breaths halted with a single, quick inhale.
His stance instantly stabilized, and in his now-firm arms, the greatsword began shimring with visible light (or so it seed, according to the Tides).
[Whirl Slash] !!!
I didn’t really know the na of the Skill, yet, this was how I dubbed it back then, after witnessing it on my first night in this world. Well, I actually nad it ‘Whirling Slash’, but I did hear the current na referenced at the Guild a few tis.
The tip of the blade, gliding elegantly in an unnatural, wavy arc, split the skull of the right hound, slightly diverting the direction of its pounce without even slowing down.
CL-TCHAA!
Then, it t the thrusting blade of the other man near its midpoint, shattering it into pieces as the Skills collided.
Although I noticed the speed of Bern’s blade slightly dropping, it continued, colliding with the second hound, sending it flying to the side as it cleaved through the creature’s torso, near-severing its front left leg.
The other man, still holding on to his broken sword, did not attempt to take advantage of his opponent’s unsteady stance. Instead, having regained stability half a heartbeat before the Slayer, he turned around, bursting into a sprint towards another tunnel.
A second later, Bern’s figure soared through the air - seemingly another Skill, which I internally dubbed [Leap] - and reached the fleeing enemy in an instant.
With a thrust of his own, the leader of the Silver Claymore ended this deadly battle.
“Bern!”
And yet, as he turned around at the sound of my voice, a certain question lingered at the forefront of my thoughts, ahead of even how they got into this particular situation.
If this was the aforentioned intersection…
“Where’s Xin?”
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