52: Beat That Lion

52: Beat That Lion

The battle had progressed by the time the galloping willow and I arrived, and not in a good way. Somehow, the number of abomination beetles had expanded from one to at least six. Three were trading fire with the Silver Ridge airship, while the remainder continued to pound the city into rubble.

Often when playing a truly experience-immersive VR game like Rell, game elements and comfortability adjustments meant you were still more or less aware of its nature as a game. That went out the window in times like this.

Flecks of scorched stone periodically rained down out of the sky, hissing and trailing acrid smoke as they went. Shouts and cries from the throats of the defenders rode the wind, and the invaders howled with unthinking rage.

From my vantage among the glowing green leaves and twisting branches of the undead tree, I could see the scale of the battle taking its toll on my gore settings. Closer in, it was just damage numbers and ragdolling bodies, but further out, blood flew in the air.

"Willow!" I called, snatching the tree's attention away from the battle. "The beetles! We need to kill them!"

"Their bodies will feed the next generation of saplings," it growled in response. “Their souls will feed me.”

When we first came within view of the battle, we’d stopped to take stock of the situation. Now, the tree opened its downwards facing maw and began to howl. It was such a low, bass sound that I felt it rather than heard it. The responding keening from the twisted dryads was anything but deep. Goosebumps erupted over my arms, and despite the fact that the monsters were now on my side, fear curdled in the pit of my stomach. Where’d I heard that sound before? It came to me in a sudden flash of memory. They sounded like war-bagpipes. Most people were familiar with the comparatively gentle sound of the ear-shattering instrument when it was used for music. Long ago, however, they were used as weapons of psychological warfare. The sound that came out of the wooden mouths of the dryads reminded me of that—high, piercing, frenetic, and unbelievably loud.

Like a mighty and ancient conifer felled by foresters, the moving woodlands tipped over the grassland towards the enemy. Titanic feet pounding the earth, the willow once more built up speed, except this wasn’t just a gallop—It was a charge. Beneath us, the twisted dryads swarmed over the fields and stone fences of the surrounding land, keeping pace with their titanic parent in a wave of undead foliage.

The ground shuddered with each step the willow took, matching the thunder that was my wildly beating heart. Faerie taskmasters watched us come in shock, and every stone-shattering footfall from the willow caused their expressions to widen further with fear. Then, finally, they scrambled to prepare their troops for the unexpected assault.

The Howling Willow was like a battleship surfing a tsunami of sharpened driftwood as it hit the side of the mushroom swarm. The impact of the charge devolved instantly into a melee of petrified blades scything through flesh. There weren't nearly as many dryads as there were mushrooms, of course, but they made up for the deficit with a vicious intelligence.

I was about to dive down into the fight when I noticed one of the beetles beginning to turn. "Willow, I hope you have a plan for those siege beams because I think they're aiming for you now."

"I see them," the lumbering behemoth replied calmly. "Let them try. I am no mere inanimate building to be blasted apart by their magics."

Several of its stronger branches began to move forward, and from them sprouted a web of new growth. The newly created tendrils of the sentient tree wasted no time weaving themselves together into thick mat that was fast becoming two metres deep and several more in diameter. In the space of fifteen or so seconds, the tree had grown two massive shields, with another two on the way.

A high pitched whining heralded the first beam of energy to strike out at the willow. Wait. That beam would be coming right here. Squeaking with sudden worry, I dove down towards the ground and took cover among the tree trunk legs of my newest friend.

“Goddess of finality, bind this soul to its rightful place in the afterlife and keep it from the lands of the living!” Paisley’s spoken incantation was one I’d only heard a few times before. Each time she’d used her marginal segue into death priestess magic, it sent a wave of goosebumps across my skin. There was something about the way her voice sounded that was just... amazing and terrifying.

Swirling black and red energy reached up out of the ground and grasped the lion with a million skeletal hands. The white spirit of the lion was forcibly yanked from the body that was still in the process of being converted by the fungal infection.

The massive beast staggered, and it looked like she’d done it—that she’d killed it— but with newborn eyes blinking in confusion, it righted itself and looked around. The woman who’d just called down the judgement of a goddess on it became the singular focus of its attention.

“Fuuuuck,” Noah groaned from his reasserted position between us and the creature. “Can’t keep something dead that’s still alive, Paisley. The lion is dead, but the parasite has learned enough, and it’s in control now.”

“Hit it, people!” I called, and zipped in low and fast.

My katana slid back into its sheath as I returned to normal size and skidded across the muddy ground, leaning back to keep from toppling over. My forefinger brushed up against the tsuba of my weapon, caressing the cold pink-tinted metal for a moment while I shifted to begin the movements of my most powerful ability. As I did so, I called upon another skill—one of the most recent ones I’d specced into. Twin Claw Duplicity sheathed my hands in a blurred afterimage, ready to copy my next attack.

The muscles of my slim arms bundled up in anticipation, and then in a single, smooth movement, I unsheathed my katana and swept it out through the air. Most of my attention was on the titan in front of me, but I had enough situational awareness to designate secondary targets.

Half a dozen copies of me sprang into existence, trailing vibrant cherry blossom petals in their wake, and together we lunged forward with one mind. A blade of energy leapt free from my slash and bit deep into the fungal flesh of the monster, and I sprang up to dodge over a swipe of one massive paw. In the middle of that moment, where time seemed to have crawled to a slow, I caught sight of Elena, standing on the back of the beast. Her form was still materialising from blood red shadows, except for her right hand, which had formed into a massive spike of the same energy.

My follow up illusory strikes shredded the skin of our enemy while at the same time, she plunged her spike into the back of its head. Her feet pushed off and launched her into a backflip to pull her clear, and we came to a stop behind the monster together, sharing a goofy grin that was all adrenaline.

“That was so cool,” she laughed breathlessly.

Focusing on the lion, I saw it was at about forty percent health, and I turned to continue the assault beside my friend and casual lover. A sharp, sudden, and serrated whistle piercing the din of the battle. Primal fear tripped my heartbeat. Did it matter that I recognised the sound, knew what it meant, and that it was friendly? Not one bit.

A sound like heavy chunks of glass shattering could be heard from the other side of the lion, and it staggered back. Then it began to shudder and shake like it was being hit by automatic weapons fire, until the whole creature seemed to open like a flower. Five or six heavy chunks of dark red energy punched out of its back, snapping bone and annihilating flesh.

Both Elena and I vanished, using mobility skills to avoid the colossal torrent of shredded mushroom flesh, lion, and magic.

Elite Event Creature Defeated. Appropriate rewards will be distributed to all involved based on participation once the event is over.

“Damn, girls... at least pretend to get hit so I can feel useful,” Ethan chuckled, throwing a heal-over-time out over the party regardless.