130 - Book 2: Chapter 67: A Losing Battle

130 - Book 2: Chapter 67: A Losing Battle

Derivan was more hurt than he had ever been.

He was still alive, crucially. His chestplate, where the runes that kept him alive were etched that was still entirely intact. But it was only intact because he'd made sacrifices elsewhere. Because when Irvis forced him to choose between damage to his chestplate and damage to something else, he'd always chosen something else. He was fairly certain he'd survive even if Irvis managed to take off his head.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

Not that he wanted to test that. Being deprived of sight along with his limbs didn't sound like a good time.

Derivan had taken on almost half of Irvis' attacks, trading places with Misa whenever he could. She was still blocking him successfully, but it was taking something vital out of her. There were dark circles under her eyes, and almost a gauntness to her frame that hadn't been there before. She was spending more mana than she ever had.

Patch told him, too, that the reality anchor she held with her was straining. It wasn't about to be destroyed, exactly, but it was a reminder that there was more at stake here than their own lives. If Misa died... Well. That was one of the reasons he was taking as many hits as he could.

Sev was healing them. He'd tried to tank a couple of hits with his barriers when he could, but most of the time he was saving mana to keep Misa healed; he could do that for less mana than it took to block one of Misa's attacks.

All of that to say that the fact remained that they were losing.

Irvis surged towards him using one of the three bodies he'd created; Misa was dealing with the other two, and Irvis seemed to be studiously ignoring Sev, for whatever reason. There was something there, though Derivan didn't know what. There had to be a reason he wasn't attacking their healer

Fangs crashed towards him, and Derivan tried to pull out of the way as best he could. He twisted, and he felt a part of his body turn into slime, affording him just a touch more flexibility than his metal usually offered. He was almost out of range

But Irvis could freely change his form the same way Derivan could, and he adjusted easily, his entire body unfolding into a mouth so it could snap shut around him. Derivan wasn't used to fighting like this, and the Slime stat wasn't second nature to him the way Physical Empathy was. His sword was out of position, and the best he could do was bring his left arm up to stop Irvis' teeth from just biting through his chestplate, even as he shoved backwards as fast as he could with his feet.

It worked, mostly. Just like most of Irvis' attacks before, his armor was strong enough to withstand the direct hit but it wasn't strong enough to withstand whatever it was Irvis had on his fangs, that drooling liquid that was so much more than a simple poison. It began eating into his metal almost immediately.

Derivan didn't hesitate. His left arm was mostly useless from the forearm onwards anyway; the metal was chipped and torn from the bits and pieces he'd been forced to hack off from Irvis' other attacks. One quick cut was all it took.

It was fortunate his sword was strong enough to slice through his own metal.

The remnants of his left forearm fell to the floor. The saving grace here was that it didn't hurt. There was, at most, a dull throbbing that Derivan interpreted as his version of pain. He heard Misa shout something that was muffled by the still-rising music and the sound of Irvis' own eldritch taunting. She sounded angry.

She would be. Derivan almost smiled at the thought.

"Derivan!" Sev was closer to him, and his voice clearer; Derivan saw the way he started forward, only barely stopping himself from running right to Derivan's side. He looked lost, desperate. "Shit, I'm I need to heal you. I'm going to try. I know we were talking about avoiding it but"

"Do it," Derivan said. He understood the need for it. The worry was that he would get the Health stat, and lose the advantage his lack thereof gave him in fights, but this was his lack of a Health stat wasn't helping him against Irvis. He still didn't know if Irvis had Health.

Sev shut up and cast. Derivan felt that rush of divine magic flowing over him, something he hadn't experienced since he'd first lost the stat. Irvis was attacking him he hadn't stopped to wait but transforming the way he did seemed to take something out of him, and he'd turned back into his humanoid form, reshaping one arm into a blade instead.

"I have nothing to say to you," Derivan said evenly. "You wish to see me angry. I am uninterested in giving you that satisfaction."

Also, he wasn't sure he was capable of feeling anger.

Irvis, on the other hand, certainly was.

"DERIVAN!" Misa called out, something in her voice worried and desperate, and Derivan glanced towards her only to see that both of the Irvises she was fighting had disengaged and were now heading directly for him; they moved too fast for him to dodge, and the third one joined in, his body morphing into another mess of endless teeth

Misa appeared in front of him, trying to block, though he saw her system connection pulsing through Patch, as though it was being strained; vast swathes of mana were being pulled through her to power her skill, and if it had completed successfully he wasn't sure what would have happened. But that didn't happen, because before the block could complete, Sev threw himself in front of them both, a divine barrier lighting up in front of him

And Irvis stopped.

He didn't hit Sev's barrier. He pulled his own attacks back, all three of them in all his forms, and re-coalesced into one being that stared with undeniable anger at Sev.

But he didn't attack.

"Move," Irvis said. Sev narrowed his eyes.

"You won't attack me," he said. "You've been ignoring me for most of this fight. I'm the healer. I'm the first target for almost any group." Sev stalked forward. "If you're not attacking me, there has to be a reason."

"Sev, get back," Misa said, her voice tense. "You can't just make that gamble."

"Even if you're right," Irvis said, his tone almost conversational. "Do you really think I can't get around you? I've been doing that this whole fight. You are nothing. An exceptionally good healer, at best."

"That's a lot of words you're spending talking, and not a lot of time you're spending on doing that," Sev retorted. He didn't move but, to his credit, he didn't step closer, either. He took Misa's words into account and took a careful step back, but kept himself between Irvis and the others.

Irvis sighed, and clicked his tongue.

Then he launched himself forward, his body splitting apart and going around Sev, straight towards Derivan and Misa. Derivan stepped forward, intent on not letting Misa spend yet another block, but this time Irvis seemed determined to take them both out all at once; he somehow sped up even more, faster than Derivan could react, and though he tried to block with his arm again he'd forgotten that his arm just wasn't there anymore.

Irvis formed a spear of flesh, aimed at his chest; he saw a similar set directed at Misa, except it was a hundred disparate spears. He doubted she had the mana to block that, even with the trade. Not with all the blocks she'd managed so far.

Derivan told himself to do something.

But he didn't know what to do.