Age and Treachery reaction (1572 words)
He awoke steadily from slumber, the high sun of noon creeping into his eyes through a giant's upraised fingers. Below was the chirping of birds and the slow, drawling hum of cicadas, trees creaking slightly in the breeze.
Slowly, the Armament above him flexed its fingers, steam pouring from countless apertures as it rose clumsily to its full height. From this distance he could clearly see how badly diminished was the weapon's current state: the errant, too-pale flickering of runes stenciled on its flesh; the choking, muffled retort of its damaged mechanical systems; and even the bone-deep weariness reflected in its stance.
You and me both. Though he'd slept in, he was nowhere close to fully recovered from yesterday's exertions. His physical body felt fine, perhaps even stronger than before, infused with a portion of the King Fish's thrashing vitality. The wound in his side stung sharply as he raised himself up with his elbows, but it was a brisk sharpness, jolting him awake.
But his powers of spirit, what Letrizia called his Astral Rank, was badly depleted still. It was a dull, hollow exhaustion, a blankness of the marrow, his soul's sharpness worn down to a nub.
And we wake, better off than when we ended up going to sleep but still greatly diminished. And the parallel with Verschlengorge is interesting. I wonder what would be necessary to restore it? Do the people of this world even have the technology necessary to return it to full power? Guess we'll find out, as long as Hunger doesn't die before we reach civilization, of course...
"Good, you're awake." Gisena came into view, a pale, fatigued cast to her features. Without pausing she unleashed a Tide of Nullity into the open air, then turned and threw another.
And we wake up to an Apocryphal proc. Not optimal, to say the least, but it could have been considerably worse. At least, we managed to reduce our condition from exhausted to mostly exhausted. If we hadn't, we would probably have straight up died in this update...
"What's going on?" Fighting through the hollowness, he sprang to his feet, the Forebear's Blade appearing his grip.
"We've got incoming," Gisena said, briefly wiping sweat off her brow. "Some kind of portal, but not an Astral effect. And they're persistent, too! Hundreds of attempts over this past hour."
Hundreds of attempts in a single hour... It doesn't seem like it asks very much of whoever is trying to open these portals if they can afford to make an attempt every few seconds. Also, I kind of wonder what they thought was stopping those attempts, if they didn't think there where any "adds" involved...
"You should have woken me," he said, coming to her side.
She shot him a cheery smile, with only a hint of strain. "Nope! Both you and Zea were out like a light! And you need your rest most of all, whereas I'm positively brimming with energy!"
That was a very good choice on Gisena part. As I've already mentioned, Gisena waking us up early would have almost certainly lead to our death...
"I'm operational," Letrizia's voice boomed from Verschlengorge, testily flexing a hand. "Or as close to it as we can be in this state."
"I suppose it's too much to hope they'd give up," Gisena said. "And running won't do us any good if they have portals. Well, if they're dying to see us, how about we grant their wish?"
Yeah. If they want so badly to go where they're clearly not wanted, they have no one but themselves to blame for the consequences of their actions.
"We'll talk about this later," he growled, advancing upon the now-forming portals. Fuck these so-called interesting times.
"I await your commendation eagerly!" she responded.
Agreed on the "interesting times" and don't worry Gisena! You made the right choice and I'm sure that, as soon as Hunger has a moment to think about it, he'll agree with that assessment.
There was no more time for talk as the shimmering blue portals finally gained a semblance of solidity. Scarce had the outline of their occupants appeared before he ducked, avoiding the chest-height Tide of Nullity that Gisena fired into the occlusion.
The first intruder appeared with a baffled shriek, the magic of her armor smothered under Gisena's assault, and he swiftly followed up with a pommel-strike to her sword arm, bone splintering under his enhanced strength.
Hunger and Gisena really have good synergy with one another, don't they? Even though I voted for Caethlynn back at the beginning of the quest, I'm certainly not unhappy with what we got.
Though they'd ambushed one, the full party had materialized successfully: one man, a mechanical construct, and two other women, all outfitted in rugged armor with an assortment of faintly glowing artifacts.
As other have already mentioned, their party composition was very similar to our own: a man with some form of ability providing a high rate of progression, two beautiful women and a mechanical construct, though ours incorporate biological elements and is a lot bigger and stronger.
"Took 'em long enough," the man whined, eyes sweeping the party. "The fuck? They didn't say anything about adds. You guys deal with those, the monster's mine."
We're not adds you ass, we're people! It's one thing to get payed to kill a giant monstrous biomechanical construct and another altogether to kill people just for money... But apparently they don't care about this distinction at all and proceed to try to straight up murder us, without the slightest hesitation.
"Yes, my lord!" Spoke the others, even as Hunger pulled the first intruder close and plunged his blade into her sternum. A swift stroke brought her life to an end as the remainder of the party advanced on him.
So he's some kind of noble, apparently? Or maybe they just swore fealty to this guy?
And we also kill the first member of their party without them seeing to care in the slightest. I suppose that's because she was just another mercenary to them...
The male leapt forward with a thump of displaced air, his blade glowing brilliant blue before it unleashed an arc of energy into Verschlengorge's direction. Too slow to evade or block, the Armament took the blow across the torso, leaving a great smoldering gouge in the plating on its chest. Hunger frowned.
This guy is pretty strong isn't he? Doing that much damage to Verschlengorge in a single attack is pretty impressive.
Then the attackers were upon him, a nymphlike woman wielding an elaborate sword and a cool-eyed blonde who covered her with crossbow fire. The construct attempted to rush past, targeting Gisena single-mindedly, but he intercepted it easily as null bolts rained down around them. None of them seemed particularly concerned about the loss of their first companion.
Yeah. Sucks to be expendable. Though they should probably taken her death as sign of how powerful we were and reconsidered their foolish attack...
"We must disable the mage," the construct groaned, bronze armor clanking as it traded blows with him. Its internals held up poorly against the power of ruin, scars of riven metal opening at each point of contact.
"I'll give the orders, mercenary." The swordmaiden said frostily, ducking back to avoid another volley from his Sorceress. "But I do agree. Beth, as we practiced?"
Another illustration of the fact that they're are clearly two different tiers of people among this party: those who are Ber companions and the expendable minions. Though really, using the term "mercenary" in a derogatory manner, when you're a mercenary yourself, is somewhat hypocritical, don't you think? Also, pulling rank in a middle of pitched battle when your subordinate is offering sound tactical advice is rather dumb, in my opinion.
The swordswoman was a striking beauty, her features haughty and regular, crimson hair and pristine blue eyes, though plain in comparison to Gisena. Her companion, 'Beth,' was shorter and mousier, wearing a hood to cover her golden locks.
I mean... Being plain compared to Gisena is nothing to be ashamed about, her appearance is literally superhuman, any real world human would be plain when compared to Gisena!
"Sure," Beth nodded. The two women withdrew.
He took the opportunity to pressure the construct, accepting a blow against the Evening Sky to slice open the thing's neck. It reeled, stumbling backwards, but before he could finish it the crossbow wielder appeared overhead.
Evening Sky showing it's worth, allowing us to just absorb enemy blows, so we can simply attack when they won't be able to defend themselves.
"Nice!" Shouted the swordmaiden as her ally fired, several powerfully enchanted bolts hurtling towards Gisena. The Sorceress dipped and weaved, emitting a wave of dispellation, but was caught in the arm. Gisena whimpered but wasted no time, snapping off the bodkin tip and pulling the bolt free. She drew Letrizia's sidearm and began to return fire.
Yeah, Gisena is nowhere as squishy as you would expect from a pure mage. Graces coming with free stat boosts that can bring one into the superhuman range help make sure that a sorceress is never going to be useless in the physical domain, though it's questionable how relevant that actually is against the orcs of the Manifest Realm, given how powerful those are in physical combat.
Growling, he hurled his blade at the midair archer and pounced on the golem, kicking off its chest to propel himself skyward. Beth contorted wildly to dodge his thrown sword, then spun with languid grace to evade Gisena's fire, heedless of leverage or gravity. But she did not see the Forebear's Blade hurtling back as he recalled it to hand.
She gave a startled, hapless shriek as the sword-fragment embedded itself in her side. An instant later he reached her, clothesline to the solar plexus driving her to the earth. Before she could recover his fist rained down with haymaker force, ending her life.
And in that ballet of aerial acrobatics, Hunger claim his second victim in this battle. This one is gonna have a far larger impact on the enemy morale than the last one...
Slow. He was too slow, his instincts numb. He was caught in the flow of the world, instead the rock against which it broke. Had he been anywhere near fighting form, an opponent of this level would never have been allowed to hurt Gisena, and the golem would already be carven scrap.
Yeah, we really shouldn't have gone for that fish... Let's not make the same mistake again, ok?
But what was the point of dwelling? Nothing to do but fight on. His ring pulsed, feeding him with strength from the intruders he'd felled.
Dwelling on past mistakes in the middle of battle is not what you want to be doing, they're will be more than enough time for that later. Hunger (the ring, I mean) is also very nice. These bouts of constant fighting would be a lot more obnoxious if we didn't get 10 times more EXP from them. I'm not sure how we'd still be alive if that was the case!
He pulled free the Forebear's Blade and moved to once again interpose himself between the construct and his Sorceress, but a howl of stark grief stole his attention.
"ELIZABETH!" Screamed the redhead, her eyes wet with tears. "You- you bastard. You'll pay..."
She began to tremble, hair rising in an invisible wind. Furiously he pushed past the golem, unwilling to let her complete whatever technique -
The hero unleashing their full potential in a bout of anger after losing one of their loved one is a lot more obnoxious when you're on the other side of it... Not that these bozos really qualifies as heroes, given their complete disregard for the lives of anyone who isn't one of Ber companions.
Slow. A moment too late he reached her, and by then her eyes had snapped open, infused with amaranthine energy. She blurred, tearing into him, Celtic knot of her sword pulsing as it pressed against his cloak of stars. Her blade sang as it moved, a mournful hum that intensified steadily, increasing her own speed until she dissolved into a whirlwind of slashing strokes.
Again, we are too slow because of that stupid fish. Seriously, why did people vote for this?
"My name is Seralize vi Esterarc. And I am your end, monster. It's not about the money or even the glory. I'LL AVENGE HER IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!"
How many times had he proclaimed similarly, when faced with the Tyrant's cruelty? Had he sounded so ridiculous? The fact that she was distracted by her monologue was the only reason he was able to keep her at bay.
Yeah, the Inigo Montoya speech would probably sound a lot less impressive in real life.
Gisena tried to assist, darting to the side, probing for an angle. The badly-damaged construct doggedly followed her, forcing her to disengage.
The construct shows it's actually the only real professional in this disaster of a group. They should have treated it better.
The force of Seralize's hatred was as a palpable thing. It suppressed his initiative and lent unnatural sharpness to her blows. Her sword fell upon him from all angles, grazing neck and cheek, nicking his ear, scraping against his forehead to send blood into his eye. The Evening Sky lent his flesh the same impossible resistance he'd faced against the pirate captain, else he would have died threefold in one exchange.
Imagine if A Curse, Deffered had won... We'd have died, right there!
Was he any better than the Tyrant, in the end? Was vengeance alone a goal worthy of all this?
This is somewhat of a false equivalence, given all the atrocities the Tyrant presumably committed, but it's nice to see that Hunger is stilled concerned about becoming what he despise. If he ever stop worrying, that will be a massive cause for concern, though it will probably be too late, by that point...
He jumped back slightly, resignation coming over his features. There was not much left in him, but if he exerted all he had, could he reach her, just this once?
"I get it," he said, looking his would-be murderer directly in the eye. "And I'm sorry."
She nodded bitterly. "As it should be."
With a final vengeful roar, she thrust forward, the gleam of her blade like a falling star. He made no move to intercept, stepping into the blow, taking it into his side, all but collapsing on her.
As the blade sprouted from his back, she let out a grim, tremulous sigh of catharsis, then began to pull her sword free for the finishing blow. The weight of his cloak was like a leaden mantle around them.
Still caught in that impromptu embrace, she was unable to evade when he stabbed her in the spine. The Evening Sky billowed and swarmed, holding her longsword in place to prevent further damage, blanketing them and smothering them, gentle dying of the light. Grimly he twisted his blade, cutting flesh and spirit, fell energies severing body from mind, soul from essence. A mortal wound.
And she get completely out played. Nice to see that those charisma bonuses can be useful even in combat! Though that was pretty cool, I still found it pretty ruthless to exploit her pain over her friend death like that. The effect of ++Heartlessness, I suppose.
Strike a thousand times, or strike one blow that tells.
Fell-Handed Stroke demonstrating it's usefulness! It's not exactly the optimal use of it, given the amount of damage we took in the process, but it got the job done.
"Hate..." she rasped, blood flecking his cheek. "I... hate you..."
He closed his eyes. "I know."
Not completely heartless, though. For all that these guys kind of deserve their fates, I can't stop myself from somewhat sympathizing here. Losing someone you really cared about, just to die almost immediately afterward because your friend's killer exploited your compromised state while you were trying to take your revenge upon him... And all of that just for money and glory? What a waste...
He tore free the Forebear's Blade and cut off her head.
Age and treachery, the Tyrant had told him once. Against such forces as that, what was the vigor of youth? Merely the purposeless guttering of an over-bright flame.
That Hunger is taking the Tyrant's lessons so at heart is rather concerning. Hopefully he can manage to maintain his sense of morality through the eons that separate him from acquiring his vengeance...
By walking into her strike, controlling the angle, he'd directed the blow down the path of his existing wound, minimizing the damage. Still, the pain was intense even under the soporific numbness of the Evening Sky. She'd widened the cut broadly and managed to nick his intestines. Not a wound that would trouble him much, if he were at full strength. As it was...
"if he were at full strength"... And the foolishness of our decisions is remarked upon, yet again. Seriously, let's never do something like that ever again. When Rihaku tell us that something is a bad idea in the future, let's just listen.
Letrizia screamed in pain, and his head snapped around to take in his companions.
Gisena had worn down the construct, which looked to be on its last legs, though she'd taken a nasty scrape from its claws. Verschlengorge was tottering, brought to one knee by the onslaught of bright blue energies hounding it.
For all that we killed all but one member of the opposing party, it wasn't without costs...
Letrizia's opponent nodded to himself as he struck, his eyes steady and calculating, baiting her into an overhead swing before darting sideways to target the joints. Even the Armament's cockpit was exposed, smoke rising steadily from its insides. As he fought, the intruder spoke, an incessant stream of affirmational nonsense mixed with strange jargon.
"C'mon Ber, you've got this. Patterns are down solid. One last phase and it's payday. Just gotta do like you do, only it's real life. Done it a hundred times..."
This is not just a MMO in real life... Enemies in real life don't have patterns, unless they're really stupid beasts or automatons. Thinking beings will be trying to act unpredictably and predict your own actions so as to maximize their own chance of victory, they won't simply follow a predetermined strategy.
The last invader spared a glance for them, and briefly paused in shock to see his companions scattered and lifeless. His body was not bare of wounds either; cuts and burns covered his skin, and his left shoulder was one enormous bruise, though compared to Verschlengorge he seemed able and hale. He leapt back, dodging a translucent wave from Gisena, scanning the three of them rapidly.
His shock completely understandable. Imagine: you're fighting for your life against a super powerful enemy and, just when you have a moment of respite, you turn around and see that the entirety of your party, apart from yourself, is dead.
"Even Sera? She's allowed to die? Shitfuck. Should have known an Astral Lord would try to fuck me, no matter how shiny the prize." He mumbled to himself, sword raised in a guard position. "Assess."
...I know you have some kind of Gamer ability, but that does not make reality a game. Sera wasn't an essential npc in a game, she was a real life person (within the context of the quest of course) and in real life, everybody is allowed to die, sadly.
Odyssial, burdened by his curses, hasn't made the omniverse into a paradise yet. Though, there is the question of why his High Cursebearers haven't done so for him, yet. What's stopping them?
Hunger frowned. It almost sounded like this guy had come from Earth, or a realm like it. Not that it mattered at this juncture. Gently extracting the now-dull steel of Seralize's longsword, he prepared to advance on the man. Warmth from the ring on his finger, sending power down his arm. Warmth from the wound as well, leaking strength down his side.
Idly he wondered if he could actually defeat this man. He was getting light-headed. Convincing Seralize had taken too much out of him.
It's a good thing he couldn't read our power level or we might actually have died there...
"Information not found..." the intruder whispered, eyes going wide. "System, what the fuck is this? Some kind of hidden boss bullshit?"
We're far more than that! To think that your puny System would be able to read the abilities of a Cursebearer who doesn't suffer from the Plenary Brand, how foolish!
Evading another Tide of Nullity, their enemy shook his head. "Fuck it. Gotta bail, come back when I'm higher level. Hey, fuckwad!"
That would normally be a very good strategy, but sadly for this guy, we're a Progression-type Cursebearer.
He pointed his sword at Hunger, its flat the cold, unending blue of a cloudless sky. "You're dead, okay? All of you. No one kills my... friends and lives to talk about it. See ya."
That ellipsis... If you didn't want them to die, maybe you should have pulled back when you noticed the "adds"... Or at least assess them before sending your allies to fight them... This senseless loss of lives could all have been avoided if Ber had taken even basic precautions, rather than just charging in without any hesitation.
So saying, he launched a torrential strike directly at Letrizia's cockpit, a sky-furrowing wave of blue that devoured the land as it traveled. Hunger and Gisena both moved to intercept, but even her focused Nullity only diminished the attack.
Panting in exhaustion, the invader gestured listlessly again. A portal of the same color quickly engulfed him.
Particularly given that it was that easy for him to retreat...
Hunger hurled himself at the remnants of the attack, cloak fully spread, managing to divert it off-course, though his arm was seared very nearly to the bone. Gisena approached quickly, holding her bleeding arm.
And another arm down... Thankfully, this one isn't as hard to restore as the other one.
"Check on Letrizia," he grunted, collapsing. "I'll be fine."
Nice to see Hunger being so solicitous toward his companions, even when he's in such a state. Though, after he's gone through, it is understandable that he really wouldn't want to lose anyone again, even if he's only known them for a few days. Also, it make a good contrast to Ber's attitude...
"On it!" Gisena said, running her fingers gently over his shoulder before sprinting for the Armament.
Letrizia was hurt, her left side marred by burns. Gisena carefully set her down on the grass and opened the medical kit. The young duchess whined, twisting away from her ministrations.
"I can stabilize her," Gisena began worriedly, "but she won't be in any fit state to travel. What do you think we should do?"
Don't worry Gisena. We'll get Letrizia the healing she needs.