Chapter 111: Overwhelming
Roots ripped free from the slanted ceiling, twisting and writhing as they responded to Leif’s command. Chunks of stone, pulled free by the violent exit of the roots, fell in crashing heaps to the floor. The cavern shook, the sound of running water replaced with rock impacting rock. Leif stepped forward, the motion turning him into a blur of golden light as [The Amber Path] pulled him away from danger.
A pillar of flames shot up from behind the wall of fire, the elementalist trying in vain to incinerate several tonnes of stone in an effort not to be crushed. The swordsman cursed, the copies on either side of him striking out, severing the larger chunks of falling rock as he tried to reposition. Shadows shot forward, no longer harassing Leif to grab both men out of danger.
Dust and debris flooded the cavern, temporarily blocking his line of sight, but he could still perceive his target with his more arcane senses. He rushed forward, into the swirling cloud of dust ignoring the small bits of stone still raining from above. The shrouded figure of the swordsman came into sight, the man was doubled over coughing, a bloody gash on one of his shoulders. The man brought his blade up in a defensive motion, the weapon turning into a blur as wind picked up, buffeting him as he advanced.
He caught the sword on the forearm, the steel edge biting into the unusually tough exterior of his body. He sent a punch towards the man’s face, but the human swayed to the side avoiding the strike. Then a follow up attack caught him in the gut as one of Leif’s golden fists hit him right in his centre of mass, the swordsman went blasting away, tumbling out of sight as wind shot from his lungs in a trailing wheeze.
Leif heard a muffled shout, then everything lit up orange as flames cut through the cloud of dust. Leif fell to a knee and rolled, barely avoiding the worst of the sudden surge of elemental energy. He came up filthy, but still moving, his reserves of cultivated vitality already healing the worst of the burns. The flames cut through the cavern once again, this time he didn’t try to dodge, allowing his shield skill and incredible durability tank the damage as he inexorably advanced.
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Sevis spat dirt from his mouth, one arm hanging limp as his other sent a continuous lance of flames slicing through the dust filled air before him. His ears rang, blood stained one of his eyes as a nasty gash on his brow flared in agony. He had seen their attacker land a devastating blow against their party's swordsman, with his skills and attribute distribution such an attack would have likely killed him outright.
Panic flared somewhere deep within him as he continued to pump as much power as possible into his attacks. His skills, developed to be as destructive as possible, responded to his growing alarm as the towering figure clad in strange ivory armour turned to face him.
“He’s coming!” Verity yelled, but he could see that for himself. Sevis back pedalled as the hulking frame of the man who had rolled under his first blast of fire, but had still caught more than a little of the skill’s impact. He half expected the man to stay down, but that hope was in vain. The armoured figure came up running, golden eyes gleaming as they were locked onto his own. Sevis cursed, sending another blast towards the man before hastily creating a defensive field of floating balls of fire as he stumbled back.
He landed poorly and pain shot through his leg, causing him to falter in his retreat. He cried out, raising a hand to unleash another wave of fire at the burnt figure. A barrier of amber light flickered briefly into existence, his opponent briefly silhouetted in gold as red hot flames engulfed him. A moment later he burst through, then the figure in white armour was upon him, gauntleted hand reaching for his throat. Cinders wreathed his already charred cloak as smoke billowed from where his armour had sustained damage. Explosions rocked the air before him as the hastily created skill constructs detonated against the man’s body, he didn’t flinch.
Sevis panicked, years of training and conditioning threatening to break as fingers wrapped around his throat. To command fire, you needed to be in control of yourself, this lesson had been pounded into his head every day of every week of every month. But to empower fire? You could feed it something else. The artificial stillness of his emotions brought about from his medication and training fled as something intangible was drawn from his body via his attackers touch. His body, despite being a repository for elemental fire became cold as energy that should be his was drained in a slow but continuous stream.
Fear, anger, hatred and desperation. They flashed through his mind as death closed in, and the carefully maintained leash was slipped, something ignited, feeding on his rampaging emotions. Sevis screamed as flesh, bone and blood became fire, [Avatar of Fire] remaking his body in an instant as power flooded through him. His scream of pain became a roar of triumph as the grip around his throat vanished, the [Noble] who had been foolish enough to fight them alone was engulfed in searing hot fire.
Burn! Sevis thought as the ecstasy of liberation became all consuming, mind alight, his rampaging emotions fuel for the pyre of his enemy. Ivory armour blackened, charring as he surged forward to embrace his newest victim. This was it, this was the power he had been denying himself all these years. Who needed restraint? Who needed control? Anyone who tried to take away what was rightfully his deserved to die.
Then a golden fist twice the size of his torso smashed into his barely physical form. Pain reasserted itself as his skill was forcefully cancelled, blood sprayed from his mouth as the fire that had only a moment before made up his being vanished and his human body returned.
Daniel was too old for this shit, at least that was the thought going through his head as he picked himself out of the crater his landing had made in the cavern's wall. Something within him was thrumming, a vibration that made his teeth want to chatter and bones tremble. It was some sort of lingering damage, but all he could do was grin and bare it. He coughed up blood, even as the healing pill he had swallowed worked to restore where his opponent had caved in his chest and punctured one of his lungs. His head swam, but he tightened his resolve, willing himself to get up and fight.
With an effort of will he activated a skill to clear the air in his immediate surroundings, then he began to manually pump air into his body. It was hard, incredibly so, but there were certain advantages to having a wind aspected class other than light steps and quick movement. Not that it had done him much good so far. His sword was missing and he didn’t have time to look for it, instead he drew a short dagger from his hip and staggered to his feet. He spat onto the ground, his saliva was stained mostly red.
He heard one of his teammates scream, winced, then raced back into the fight, in a single step he had covered half the distance, in another he was within striking range of the armoured man. In under a second he assessed the situation, Verity was wounded, Sevis was lying unmoving in a heap. Their opponent... their opponent shouldn’t be alive. His armour had been punctured or burnt away in dozens of different places, the wound in his chest should have been enough to kill anyone below level one hundred. Until the body was remade and one’s life was no longer dependent on the functioning of vital organs enough physical trauma should be fatal.
Should.
But even in that fraction of a second as he took in the [Noble], his armour began to mend. Stab wounds closed over, burned surfaces flaked away. The stranger’s masked face tilted in his direction.
You’re not human, are you? Daniel thought, staring into two burning amber slits. His dagger flashed even as he let the wind carry him into his opponent's blind spot. His strike landed, chipping the ivory white exterior of the abnormality they were facing. Daniel hissed out a breath, the sound like a shrill whistle. The very act of standing up had been agony, fighting in his current state was an entirely different type of torture. But he never let up. As Verity retreated to tend to their pyromancer’s wounds he struck again and again, faster and faster.
He might be far older than his two teammates, and he may have reached the end of his potential, but that didn’t mean he wasn't every bit as dangerous as his level would suggest. Years spent serving his sentence had stolen what could have been a rise to power, but there was still glory in service, in dedication.
Roots whipped out to strike or restrain but he cut them apart. Ethereal arms struck and blocked, it was like trying to fight an entire forest at the same time. For every blow he landed amber fingers brushed against his body, stealing something vital and leaving that same dissonant reverberation.
I can’t kill him, whatever he is. Daniel thought, slowing as pain from skill overuse and his internal injuries began to accumulate. If he didn’t spend the time to let the healing pill currently working overtime to restore his body do its thing he wouldn’t last much longer. Heat bloomed, and laughter began to fill the cavern. Daniel’s heart sank, he danced backwards, weaving his dagger in a defensive pattern as he gained distance.
The armoured figure didn’t pursue, instead it had turned to face the growing pyre of flame and heat simmering in the corner. Verity swung passed him on a tendril of shadow, he couldn’t see her face but she was clearly panicked. And for good reason, their bomb was about to go off.
“We need to go.” She hissed, voice pained. “Deeper, away from this place.”
“I know. Fuck, is he really losing it?”
In response to his question the body of their team's pyromancer ignited, and the air began to burn. An explosion rocked the chamber, the force of which almost knocked him from his feet. He gasped, scorching hot air filling his already damaged lungs. Verity cursed as she landed on her wounded leg, but he dashed to her side and caught her even as his consciousness began to flicker. The room shook, rubble falling from above as the cavern’s structure began to fall apart. He shot one final glance over his shoulder at the stoic and unreadable stature of their pursuer, then he dove off the shelf and into the darkness below. Cackling laughter followed their descent.