by Aaron Oster
When Morgan had shown her this move, Grace had been worried that she’d kill the person if she did this, but Morgan had shown her that this particular hold would only render the target unconscious. He demonstrated by showing what the hold did and how it worked. The bend in the elbow protected the target’s windpipe, while flexing her bicep would put pressure on the target’s carotid arteries and cut off the flow of blood to the brain.
This would render the target unconscious within just a few seconds, without leaving any lasting damage. He had warned her that if she held the chokehold for too long, she could cause permanent brain damage or even death. He’d then explained that shifting her forearm across the neck instead of at an angle could also cause almost instant death when pressure was applied.
She allowed the unconscious woman’s body to slide from her arms and thump to the ground. Her body was shaking with adrenaline, and her arm was bleeding where the elven woman had gouged her with her nails. But other than that minor injury, she was completely unharmed. She was actually surprised that she’d been strong enough to hold the elf woman in the air without buckling and had a feeling that Morgan’s focus on her Strength was definitely the cause.
Grace was happy she’d managed to take both of them out without killing them, but just leaving them lying there wasn’t exactly safe. She jogged back into the forge, where Ivaldi was now flattening out the head of the spear, and grabbed some of the thick rope he kept lying around.
“Took care of those elves, I see,” Ivaldi commented as she headed back to the tunnel.
“Yeah,” she replied, pride tinging her voice. “I’m going to tie them up and bring them back here. I’m sure Morgan will know what to do with them when he gets back.”
Ivaldi just grunted in reply, then went back to hammering at the spearhead. Small flashes of green and blue were now sparking off with each blow, and Grace could see the spear taking shape. She would have liked to stay and gawk for a bit longer, but she knew that the prisoners needed to be tied up.
Heading back into the tunnel, Grace jogged at a light trot until she reached her unconscious targets. Binding prisoners hadn’t actually ever come up, as Morgan simply always assumed that they’d be dead. Grace, however, had spent her life on a farm, so tying knots wasn’t exactly a foreign concept.
She debated tying the bloodied elf first but decided that she’d rather leave the dirty work for last. She might be taking these two prisoner, but the elf woman’s clothes were quite nice and looked like they might fit her. After stripping her down to her underwear, she rolled the woman onto her stomach, pulling her arms back and binding them tightly. She then looped the rope around her wrists and used the same length to bind her ankles.
She looked down at her handiwork, feeling just a little bad at leaving the woman in this predicament, but dismissed it as soon as she remembered that they’d come here to kill them. She stared down at the woman’s bare back for a few long moments, noting that she had a very odd-looking spine. Instead of the usual curvy line, she found two, much thinner ones. When she bent down to trace a finger down the woman’s back, she discovered that elven anatomy was different than a human’s in more ways than one.
Apparently, she had two spines! Though they were thinner than hers, they felt no less robust, which just begged the question as to why. Elves seemed to be slimmer overall if the group of six she’d seen a few days ago were of any indication. If they were larger, or more robust, she might have seen the point, but why two spines for a race like this?
The only warning Grace got that something was wrong, was a light scraping of stone from behind. Then, something powerful slammed into her back, driving her into the tied-up elf. There was a loud, snapping crunch as bones broke, and Grace saw stars as her chin smacked against the back of the unconscious elf’s head.
Her brain was addled, and she sure that the snapping sound had been her spine breaking. However, the wet feeling soaking through her clothes soon told her that that wasn’t the case. She threw her arm back then, as she heard another scuffling scrape and blasted the corridor blindly with her Air Siren.
There was a gurgling scream of pain, followed by a dull thud as her attack made contact. She quickly pushed herself up then, looking down in horror at her blood-soaked front, and the shattered and broken body of the elf beneath her. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the woman was dead. Had she not been there to cushion her fall, Grace knew that she would be the one now lying in a pool of her own blood.
As it was, her back ached horribly. The coppery taste in her mouth, along with the throbbing pain, told her that she’d bitten her tongue. She turned, slowly, to face her attacker, and found the first elf, the one she’d thought down for the count, up on his feet once more. His head was oddly crooked to one side, and his nose was still leaking blood.
Her attack had sent him into the tunnel wall, and she could see blood dripping to the ground behind him. She now understood how he’d been able to get back up. Even if she’d broken his spine with that punch, she’d only broken one of them. That was probably why his head was tilted the way it was. As she looked him over, she got a distinct feeling that something wasn’t right.
The elf’s eyes were unfocused, and he moved in a jerky fashion that looked unnatural. That was not to mention that no one, not even someone with two spines, should be able to hit that hard with such severe injuries. He’d also killed his own partner without so much as flinching. Even now, he didn’t even bother looking at her body, not that Grace could blame him.
She watched him carefully as she spread her legs into a fighting stance, wincing at the pain coming from her back. The elf was staring off in a completely different direction, like she wasn’t even there. Grace had narrowed her eyes, wondering if this was some sort of ploy, when the elf suddenly dashed at her, one arm flopping at his side, the other coming up to strike.
The weirdest part of it all was the fact that he wasn’t even looking at her! His head was still cocked to the side, staring off into space. The arm reared back, throwing a mighty punch, and Grace threw up an arm to block, using Body Shift at the last moment to increase her density. Morgan had had her train in this as well. Her speed was compromised when using the skill to make herself denser, so activating it at the last second was a perfect way to counter that loss.
Ideally, she should be able to switch from light to heavy in an instant, but as of now, that took a couple of seconds. Morgan assured her that with enough training, it would get easier, but for now, this was a good solution.
When the blow struck, Grace was very happy she’d chosen to use the skill, despite her CP being at only a quarter of her full capacity. Pain radiated up her arm as the attack struck, jarring her to the bone and making her stagger back. She used the opportunity to lash out with a front-kick, though since she was retreating, it had far less power.
Still, it did what she’d intended and staggered her attacker as he tried to take advantage of her loss of balance. Grace debated using Expand Blows when she planted her back foot and threw a punch but decided against it, as she needed all the CP she had to maintain her defense. The elf twisted strangely to the side, and Grace gagged as she heard a snapping, crackling sound that was most definitely not natural.
Her attack missed, but she quickly recovered, throwing a low kick at the elf’s ankle. There was a jarring impact of bone on bone as she hit the elf’s shin, but her body was dense enough to avoid breakage. This didn’t mean she wasn’t in pain, though. The elf, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. Another crunching sound saw the elf’s leg bend at the point of impact, and he stumbled to the side, throwing his only good arm out for balance.
Much to her surprise, he caught himself, miraculously staying on his feet. Then, he did something else that was unexpected. Lifting his broken leg, he kicked her. Grace threw both arms up to her side, tucking her head as she did so. There was another crunching sound as the shattered leg slammed into her and Grace had the misfortune of her skill running out just then.
She cried out in pain as her right arm snapped. Her left, which took less of the impact, only bruised. The force of the blow was so powerful that it broke her stance and sent her flying into the wall, where her already injured spine smacked into the hard stone. White-hot needles of pain shot down her spine and Grace dropped to the ground with a groan, her right arm hanging limply at her side and her vision going hazy.
The elf stumbled towards her, his head now facing backward as he dragged himself along on the bloodied stump of his ruined leg.
“What the hell are you?” she asked, groaning weakly and raising her left arm before her.
Much to her surprise, a rasping, burbling voice came back in reply, echoing not from the twisted head’s mouth, but from the center of the elf’s chest.
“Ssstrangler!”
The reply chilled Grace down to her very bones and though she didn’t understand the ‘how,’ she had figured out the ‘what.’ Strangler, the World Beast that this elf worshiped, had somehow taken over his body. That was how he kept moving, despite the very obvious fact that he should be dead. It was jarring and disturbing all at once, but more than that, Grace was now very scared.
Back when she’d just been fighting the two elves, they were on even footing, but now she was fighting a World Beast! She couldn’t compete with that!
The low hissing continued as the elf shuffled towards her, hand reaching out to clamp around her neck, and beginning to squeeze. Grace was frozen in place, staring in horror at the back of the elf’s bloodied head, even as his hand tightened its grip and began crushing her windpipe.
This is it, the end of Grace.
No one was here, and no one could help. She was all on her own, facing a World Beast, and she was going to die here, in the tunnel. Her vision began to grow hazy, stars dancing before her eyes as blackness began to creep in around the edges, threatening unconsciousness.
Grace couldn’t move. She couldn’t bring herself to raise her only good arm to try and stop him. She could feel the monster’s pleasure radiating off it in waves. She could hear the hissing glee of its sibilant voice, and she felt the cold creeping in around her eyes.
An image of Morgan suddenly flashed in her mind’s eye. He didn’t say anything, merely standing there with his arms folded and staring down at her. She reached out to him, desperately gasping for air. But Morgan only shook his head and pointed at her. He then folded his arms and waited, eyes watching her expectantly.
Grace came back to herself then, mind snapping from whatever fog had been clouding it, and found herself in a very precarious situation. The elf was practically lying on her, the back of his twisted head pressing into her face, the stench of death all around her. The hand around her neck was squeezing harder and harder, and her vision was fading fast.
Not having much time to think, and not having much space to move, Grace did the only thing she could. With a strangled cry, she slammed her left palm into the elf’s pointed ear and used Air Siren. She felt the pulse of energy blast from her hand and felt bile creep into her throat at the resulting explosion of blood, gore, and brain matter that painted her and the tunnel walls.
If she’d been expecting the loss of his head to stop the elf, she’d have been very disappointed. Luckily for her, she hadn’t, but the head’s explosion had loosened the creature’s grip on her neck, giving her the precious breath of air she’d so badly needed, as well as the space to reposition her hand.
“You can’t beat me!” the voice hissed as the elf’s body came back towards her, hand clamping down on her throat once more.
“Watch me, motherfu-!” The rest of the word was cut off as she unleashed her Air Siren once again.
The difference between the two attacks was the positioning of her hand, which she’d moved to the elf’s chest as his body came back down. The blast at point-blank range resulted in his entire chest cavity being blown up. It painted the walls, ceiling, and floor with even more blood and gore, this time accompanied by a lovely stream of intestines.
However, that hadn’t been what Grace was aiming for. Along with all that damage, she’d destroyed the only thing keeping Strangler in control – the elf’s core.
She gasped as the body was blown back, coughing and hacking as air entered her damaged throat. She promptly leaned to one side and vomited, not that anyone could blame her. She was coated from head to toe in blood and guts, and the stench alone was enough to be vomit-inducing. Add to that the fact that she’d very nearly died, and it was only polite that she emptied her stomach in response.
Grace didn’t have long to dwell on all that had just happened, though it would haunt her nightmares for months to come. Thankfully, right now, she was spared the horrors by an excited cry from Ivaldi that echoed down the tunnel.
“Don’t know what you’re doing in there, girl, but you’re gonna want to see this!”
She groaned, but forced herself to her feet, doing her damndest to ignore the horrific pain coursing through her body. She couldn’t forget that Morgan was still fighting, and whoever it was, it had been dangerous enough for him to drop a mountain, or something similar, on them. Maybe the spear could help, and if Ivaldi was calling this excitedly, it could only mean he was either done or nearly so.
Grace had no doubt that she owed Morgan her life. Not because he’d come into that tunnel and personally done so, but because of his belief and encouragement. Because of him, she’d had the strength to fight for herself when she believed she was done, and that, in her opinion, was far more valuable than if he’d simply come in and bailed her out again.
A bloody grin stretched across her face as she limped into the forge, secure in the knowledge that she would no longer be a helpless farmgirl, but a powerful and capable warrior.
58
Morgan rolled in the air, twisting to one side and lashing out with his spear. There was a loud sizzle as it slammed into the goddess’s stomach, discharging a bolt of lightning and sending her flying. She vanished, appearing above him and bringing her sword down on his head. He used Maximum Increase, the massive burst of speed allowing him to move out of the way, and countered with a strike of his own, thrusting the spear forward and slamming into her face.
With any other opponent, even one of a much higher rank, Morgan doubted that they’d survive a blow with an effective Strength of 2,788 behind it. Gwendolyn was only inconvenienced by this, being blasted through the air once again and sent tumbling end over end. He took in a deep breath, then turned and fled once more, using four quick jumps to try and throw her off.
It didn’t buy him much time, and she was on him again within five seconds, her pink sword flashing out in a series of swift blows. Morgan’s shield caught them all, either turning them aside or outright blocking them. Without the aid of his skill, Morgan wouldn’t have dared, but with the increase to his Strength and Agility, he was strong and fast enough to turn them aside.
Gwendolyn vanished, appearing to his right and lashing out with a kick. However, as he turned his shield to block her, she vanished again, completing the kick to his left and catching him completely off guard. The blow shattered the armor on his lower back, and Morgan felt the bones creaking even as the foot sank deeper into his flesh.
He twisted away, kicking his foot and using Compression to blast himself free, then used Gravity Tear to get some distance from her. Gwendolyn stayed close behind him, and Morgan threw his shield up once again. She vanished, appearing above him with a downward thrust, but Morgan had been prepared this time.
Two violet lances appeared in the air, flashing up to meet the thrust, and though they were destroyed, they managed to knock her attack aside. She let out a scream of frustration, then blasted a lance of pink energy, vanishing and appearing to his right, then left in a split second. Morgan teleported away, starting to feel a bit sick from all the jumping, but knowing that he had little choice.
The three beams slammed into one another, and the blast was enough to be felt from the half-mile away poi
nt to which he’d jumped. His eyes flicked around for a moment, trying to find the goddess, when a hand pressed into the small of his back.
“Miss me?” she asked, before a searing pain blasted from where her hand was pressed.
“That was impressive,” Gwendolyn said as he turned to face her, clutching painfully at the bleeding hole just to the left of his spine.
“You managed to move enough to avoid a crippling blow. But how much longer can you hold out?”
Morgan grimaced, fighting to keep his composure. That last attack had been far too close for comfort, and his inability to sense her was putting him at a huge disadvantage. He was beginning to tire as well, having exerted himself fully over the last fifteen minutes to stay alive and out of reach. Even he had limits, and while some might think that moving up in rank gave someone endless endurance, they’d be wrong.
He could now fight longer than he previously could, but if he were fighting at 100% the entire time, he would begin to tire. Especially seeing as he continuously pushed himself to 400, and then 480 percent. While he could keep using skills so long as he had reiki to burn, there was only so much his body could handle. He didn’t think he’d be dropping from exhaustion anytime soon, but his reflexes were beginning to dull.
A drop down to 99 percent or 98 percent might not seem like much, but in a fight like this, it could be the difference between life and death. As Gwendolyn rocketed forward, vanishing and then appearing below for another attack, Morgan realized that it might be time to change the battlefield. It was clear that she had the advantage in the air, so it was best to minimize her direction of attack while building himself a more solid defense.
He teleported, this time landing on the ground some three-hundred feet below. It was scorched and cracked, partially turned to glass, and contained a crater nearly two miles across. All of this destruction was caused by his skills, yet even with all that he’d thrown at her, the goddess was completely unharmed. Not even a single strand of her perfect pink hair was out of place.
