"Looks like the Ordeal decided to no longer stay dormant," Verina began chambering spells into her musket. "I can finally see the Fortcracker Mk II being used in an actual battle situation."
Carried on her beck was a sturdy backpack made by the same material that was used to create the Soulthread Aegis. Inside, was the cryopreserved head of Lupina.
We couldn't really leave Lupina's head lingering on the storage in case that there might be a Calamity Object that was much more destructive than warranted. Carrying it around the battlefield might also prove dangerous, but the one carrying it was a woman who floated above a pair of flying wheels.
—
[The Screaming Widow]
[Description: This spindly, multi-limbed creature is covered in sharp, bone-like spines. The Screaming Widow moves with unnerving grace, letting out an ear-piercing shriek that paralyzes its prey. Its attacks come in the form of rapid strikes from its jagged limbs, and its screams can cause vertigo and hallucinations, leaving its victims disoriented]
[Hint: The Widow's scream warps perception, creating illusory doubles of itself that attack from all angles. Bastioneers must figure out which "Widow" is real, as attacking the illusions will lead to exhaustion and confusion. Its weakness lies in its reliance on sound, so countering with sound-canceling devices or overwhelming noise can disrupt its ability to scream]
—
It was the first Calamity Object that decided to invade this bastion.
"That thing looks unnerving. Should I shoot it?" Verina suggested.
"Your lifeline is more precious than my ballista bolt."
"I take that as a no."
Despite the name, the Screaming Widow was in a state of eerie silence. Its description didn't do justice to what we were seeing in our direction, creepily moving forward at a chaotic pace.
This whole entity's gimmick looked like pain in the ass if dealt at close range, especially since aggroing the Widow at the slightest might cause it to scream.
Fortunately, we had a method of disposing a moderately-moving Calamity Object from afar without a prolonged time of engagement.
In less than three seconds, I had already deployed my Fortcracker Mk II with its bolt loaded and ready.
All I needed was to aim to pull the lever and launch this bulk of pain onto those that were unfortunate enough to become its target.
"Hmmph!"
The air around the ballista was crackled, the torsion arms pulled taut like a coiled storm had its fury unleashed.
The massive bolt tore through the air with a deafening whistle, cutting a path through the translucent mist the Widow had woven around itself.
Imminent, the sharpened piece of wood that gleamed with a deadly edge of air friction, struck true—piercing through the Widow's spindly limbs and embedding its bone-like carapace to a far ground several meters away.
The creature let out a final, distorted wail—its many limbs flailing as it crumpled under the force of the impact.
I shoot out another bolt as an attempt of precaution, ensuring that there would be no more scream expelled from that sickening corpse. After all, it wouldn't be a stretch that the dead can still cream in the middle of the Ordeal.
And I doubted that a single hit was enough when it comes to anything that the Ordeal threw at us.
"There are multiple of them now, manifesting from thin air," Verina reported. "It's not actively trying to engage forward."
"Leave them be, they are the illusion created by that last dying scream." I began packing back my trusty Fortcracker Mk II into its collapsed form, holstering them to my back. "Better to save our breath. The night is still young."
Just as expected, the illusion slowly died out as it mindlessly linger on the faraway perimeter without any purpose.
That Calamity Object was definitely a dangerous one if interacted without any kind of wisdom or precaution.
Because of that, I deem this ability of mine to look through their information screen to be staggeringly powerful.
"Remember, while my knowledge of any Calamity Objects we face sound irrefutably dependable, I'm incapable of digesting every aspect of them as they are not easily handed to me." I said before chomping on the mystery meatballs that I prepared as ration for the whole night. "Always make sure to expect me to not know one or two aspects of any Calamity Object we face." Searᴄh the NôvelFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
"And I'll make sure to voice out my own knowledge in case that we encounter anything that is familiar to me." Verina was also snacking on the meatball, but there was a visible revolting reaction to her bodily gesture. Despite that, she was the one who ate it the most. "That way, we can make our understanding of our enemies much more solid."
"Don't eat too many meatballs in one go, you'll get meat-sweats and get sleepy."
"What in the world is meat-sweats?" Verina asked, before taking out her Potion of Lifeline that had been repurposed to Potion of Thirst-quenching.
"When you eat a lot of meat or rich-protein food, your body works extra harder to digest all that food. Your metabolism speeds up, which produces more heat. You'll then get hotter and then sweaty.
"Excessive sweating can make you extremely tired and sleepy," I said as I snatched the meatball from her hand. "Your kind is already heating and sweating a lot, and doing it when the Ordeal is around is not a good idea."
"Huh… that makes a lot of sense. I didn't really think about it."
"Also, I intentionally make these meatballs taste mediocre, why are you inhaling it like it's nothing…"
"Your mediocre food is still top notch food for me," Verina said before snatching the meatball back from my hand. "Though, you're wrong on one thing. We kilnalan aren't normal humans."
"Mmm, I guess that is not exactly unwarranted for a half-human half-heater."
"Said the half-fairy half-deforester."
Another 30 minutes of downtime dawned upon us, until it was the time to encounter the next wave of Calamity Object.
—
[The Vitruvian Drone]
[Description: A grotesque, spider-like creature whose body follows an unnatural, almost mechanical symmetry. Every movement is calculated, every strike precise, as if following a blueprint of perfect violence. Its many eyes focus on flaws in its prey, seeking out imperfections to exploit with deadly efficiency]
[Hint: The creature's attacks are nearly impossible to avoid unless its patterns are disrupted, forcing it into a state of imbalance where it becomes vulnerable to chaotic, unpredictable strikes]
—
This time, it was a horde of Vitruvian Drones, consisting of 25 of them marching from the faraway plain.
It was quite the jump, from fighting a single widow, to 25 killer spider robots—a grotesque one at that.