Chapter 30: Unstoppable Force, Immovable Misa

Chapter 30: Unstoppable Force, Immovable Misa

As a general rule, almost all skills had some sort of range limit, even if that range limit wasn't stated. A fireball's range depended on its strength; the further it traveled, the more the fire or the magic that maintained it would dissipate, and the weaker the spell was. A melee skill's range depended on the size of the weapon you were using, and how much you could physically extend yourself.

More esoteric skills from rarer classes tended to bend the rules; they tried to obey the rules as they were written in the box. And while Misa had to be aware of an attack in order to block it, she was, in fact, aware of this attack.

But she was separated by the dimensional boundary that dungeons that were being actively delved had around them; she was aware of the attack only because of the particularly strange combination of scrying magics used to view what was happening in real-time across that boundary.

As far as anyone knew, physically crossing the boundary should have been impossible. It was an uncrossable boundary, dictated by the rules of the system.

And so the question became this: What were the rules-as-written, in this scenario?

Misa didn't know. There were strange interactions, sometimes, between skills; rarer ones especially rarely had a predictable result when tested against the boundaries presented by the system.

Misa rolled the dice.

There was a bare fraction of a heartbeat's worth of time that passed where the system seemed to freeze, uncertain. There was a moment that was stretched into eternity.

And then she was in the dungeon, in front of the necrotic bolt, her mace already raised in defense. The bolt clanged uselessly against the metal, but she still felt the bite of an impossible, shearing pain as the system ripped away her Health; almost as if in punishment for the abuse of her Skill

but it wasn't done yet. Her system was going wild, notifications pouring through the air in front of her.

Theoretical range limit for skill exceeded! Attempting to compensate...

Reality-displacement boundary found between user and skill target! Unable to compensate

Boundary weakened by unknown effect. Proceeding with skill...

Skill conflict detected! Skill [Inexorable Bolt] conflicts with [To Fall Yet Hold the Line]. Resolving skill differences...

Multiple errors detected during skill use. Resolution failed. Compensation failed. Local boundaries degrading. Engaging fallbacks...

Fallback resolution determined.

Skill [Inexorable Bolt] has succeeded. Skill [To Fall Yet Hold the Line] has succeeded. Averaging results along local reality axis.

What the fuck?

Misa scarcely had the time to think the question she got her answer.

But the limitations of the skill were showing themselves almost immediately. The delve team didn't have a healer on hand; they were all built with self-healing, self-sustaining skills, given the penchant dungeons had for separating people. Misa was a dedicated damage-soaker without any of those skills any damage to her, for the duration of this fight, would be permanent. She could keep charges of her skill for emergencies, but it got progressively more dangerous to use it each time, and once she was too low on health she would be nearly useless in the fight.

She had a couple of health potions, and there was [Every Last Drop] to soak up some mana instead of health, but even those wouldn't last forever... It was too much to think about. Misa shook her head; better to focus on the fight.

The orb cracked in half.

A blinding energy that wasn't quite light erupted from within. Mana, Misa thought, dazed; it didn't interact with her eyes in any way, but they still watered from the sight. She saw streams of red from where the mana was so dense that it distorted light, saw the way it flowed outward in a mockery of the humanoid form in an eerie reminder of the Overseer.

Two arms, then three, then five. Three on one side and two on the other; the balance of the new creature was lopsided. Three arms were made out of red, arcane energy, the original color of the orb; two were made from the darker necrotic energy.

The torso was a thin, wispy thing that barely existed save to hold the limbs together, and the legs were barely present at all two protrusions jutting out from below its torso, brushing against the ground. They weren't holding up any of the creature's weight, appearing to exist solely because it was mimicking some vaguely humanoid form.

"Get ready," the captain said, his voice grim.

The mana-creature, or whatever it was, screeched. A system display fizzed into being, oddly reluctant, above its head.

Level 73 Aberrant Arcane + Necrotic

A level 73 typed elite. It was the sort of thing you heard about heroes fighting, every time there was a dungeon break of some sort and the monsters flooded out; not the type of monster Misa expected she would face for many years, yet. But she was here now, surrounded by a team of soldiers much stronger than her.

Soldiers that had just been turned into skeletons through a paradoxical skill interaction. Misa grimaced slightly. There was no telling if that would affect their fighting abilities; it shouldn't, but then nothing about that skill interaction should have happened. She felt guilt for what she'd done to them

She put the thought aside. She could feel guilty later, as long as everyone was alive, for now. As long as she made sure everyone stayed alive.

Breathe. Watch. React.

The Aberrant attacked.

It moved in a clumsy, shuffling way that should have been uselessly slow; indeed, for a second or two it seemed to genuinely be tripping over itself. Then that movement turned into a fall, and the fall's momentum was somehow redirected and boosted, and it shot with blinding speed towards the lizardkin captain.

The captain blocked. Arms filled with arcane energy crashed into the edge of his blades, and the monster screeched again, a painful surge of sound that bled into Misa's health. It didn't seem to take any damage from his blades, even though he tried to twist and slice; the blades skated off the arcane energy like it was nothing, and then the Aberrant twisted, plunging both necrotic arms straight into the center of his chest.

A pause.

The Aberrant and captain both seemed briefly confused and then something seemed to click. He somehow grinned, though his head was nothing but skull and bone. "Necrotic damage ain't gonna do shit to us now. Didn't think of that, did ya, ya bastard?"

The Aberrant screeched again, not understanding a word and yet still managing to sound just a touch alarmed. It understood enough to know that the fact that its prey had survived a hit made it dangerous.

The captain, of course, pressed his advantage. A blade spun and twisted in his hand, even as the other kept the arcane arms occupied; the second blade slammed into the Aberrant's center mass, directly towards the cracked glass orb that still hovered in the center.

But it skittered off yet again. They were almost at an impasse, except the Elyran delvers were all still vulnerable to the blades of arcane mana that masqueraded as arms.

Misa saw three other delvers lunge at the Aberrant, trying to score hits with their own enchanted weaponry; just as before, the blades seemed to deflect off the creature's body. It saw that its opponents couldn't hurt it, and the mana in the upper portion of its torso parted in a strange crescent

Was it grinning?

Fuck.