It was time for me to practice on this invulnerable skin.
For a moment, I hesitated, remembering how the Protector’s lower ranked “cousin” managed to interrupt Soulcatcher in the tunnel. Tanks had abilities in their arsenal that allowed them to interrupt spell casting and already active spells. And I didn’t like the idea of Soulcatcher failing me again this time, not to mention Lich’s Grasp...
The Demon suddenly turned around and looked at me over the Dions — its eyes burned red through the eye-slits, and I felt a heavy weight fall on my shoulders. Then it moved in my direction, its heavy stomps shaking the ground. The Dions’ desperate attempt not to let the Demon out of the circle failed with a thundering crack of crushed armor: three Dions were thrown away at once, as if they had suddenly turned into training dummies filled with straw.
I realized what was going on, and felt adrenaline rush through my veins. The Demon was waiting for me. It knew that I was getting up. Their task wasn’t only to capture the Citadel, but also to destroy the Keymaster.
“Run!” Stinger shouted, also realizing what was happening.
Immediately getting in the Protector’s way with the help of his signature jump, Stinger, barely reaching the giant’s belt, hit it in the torso with Provocation from a short distance. But the demonic tank didn’t slow down, noticing no one but me. Stinger somehow managed to get out of its way, barely avoiding being pulverized.
From the side of the decimated gates came the mighty Dalrokts, who looked like action figures compared to the big Demon. Drahub, with a magical sphere hanging over his right shoulder, launched a wave of fire on the run, flame enveloping the Creepoar tank, but to no visible effect. All it did was scorch its already charred armor. From behind the Dalrokts, emerged the Okhtan survivors.
I had no idea how they were going to stop it.
And I wasn’t going to find out — there were enough victims already. Looking at the mountain of muscles that was stomping toward me like a battle mech, I struck.
I had no idea what the end result would be. But I was sure that it would be something amazing that happened only in extreme cases when the stakes were extremely high. After all, this ability — Kamikaze’s Vengeance — cost an entire save! The moment I used it, a bright flash escaped from my pouch, burning my entire supply of socs. I, of course, didn’t know about this either. But the result didn’t disappoint me, and the price was worth it.
Time stopped. The Demon’s level suddenly blinked, and for a moment flashed 24 before returning to 30. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something new appear among the icons of my active auras.
The Great Equalizer
Skill trigger chance and cooldown depend on the reputation with the divine patron.
That’s it! That’s the damn unknown factor! So that’s why I didn’t notice it before — it wasn’t shown in the battle logs, and it’s icon appeared only for a few seconds and disappeared without a trace immediately after the skill triggered. But since my reputation with Alan had risen, the icon lasted long enough for me to notice it!
The Demon, without finishing its step, was suddenly enveloped in a cloud of tiny blue sparks, frantically flickering around him like speedy comets. They easily pierced the Protector in hundreds of places, from armor to its very bones. Dark, viscous blood gushed from it like from a colander, and its HP reached zero within milliseconds. It died the moment its foot touched the ground. The huge body tilted forward and collapsed like an overturned tower, causing the ground to shake.
It looked like a bomb fell upon our battlefield. I should’ve been full of pride, but alas, I was never a boastful man.
Elite Protector of the Primordial Flame has been defeated!
XP received: 16,666
Achievement unlocked: Who Dares Wins
Kamikaze’s Vengeance has a 20% chance of not using a save.
Achievement unlocked: The Battle Beyond the Edge II
For the first time in Lunar Rainbow, a group has destroyed an Elite Protector of the Primordial Flame, previously considered an indestructible creature.
This achievement will be imprinted in the Great Genesis Book and be known in all the worlds in the Universe ICS.
Reward: 20 (33) skill points; 20 (24) clan skill points; 0.5 saves (4.25)
“Considered an indestructible creature,” you say? No wonder. The damn thing had never crawled out from the zone belonging to the Flame Phase, since the conditions had only now been fulfilled. Blackest irony in its fullest.
Without looking at the corpse, I went to the courtyard, toward Fury, ignoring the Okhtans, who respectfully moved out of way, feeling like I was carrying the sorrows of the whole world on my shoulders.
Chapter 66
Revenge’s backlash plunged me into such a severe depression that the day seemed to turn into night and I suddenly didn’t care for anything, except for maybe that overgrown worm that was hovering in the sky above the burning tower, and that was still a thorn in my side that needed to be dealt with. Someone seemed to be trying to grab me by the arms and shoulders; they were saying something, but all the words were slipping past my consciousness. Then they left me in peace, apparently realizing that I wasn’t in a good mood.
I stopped not far from the bridge connecting the two towers and stared up at Marana. Twenty or twenty five feet separated us. I wondered if the wyrm would retreat or attack if she lets it go, since the battle for the Demons had already been lost. I feared that another fight would break out as soon as it comes to its senses. I doubted that that could be avoided. Marana has long been at her limit, stamina slowly moving toward zero, and as soon as she collapses from exhaustion, the Executioner will immediately begin to wreak havoc. With its HP and power, it’ll finish off the Citadel without the horde, and the Dions with their slings will be powerless against it. That was enough reason to hurry for me.
Having eyed the distance between us, I grunted. It was unlikely to be farther than a hundred and fifty feet, which was fine, but all of the Crystals in my pouch were used up, the Amplifiers, too, and I didn’t have time to examine enemy corpses. I felt that our last seconds were running out...
Wait!
I reached for Flame and hastily shook the Amplifier out of its handle. It was a bit melted, but otherwise intact. That should do the trick... Alan, if you’re out there, please let this work.
Lich’s Grasp, a spectral harpoon, flew toward the monster circling the spires and plunged itself into its scaly abdomen. There was a flash and a deafening rumble, as if someone had hit a giant steel gong.
As soon as the trance was interrupted, Marana, groaning in both relief and exhaustion, fell to her knees and then collapsed to her side, disappearing behind the parapet of the bridge.
This time, The Great Equalizer didn’t activate, but the wyrm didn’t like what I’ve done to it anyway. The Executioner darted upward in wild rage and began to fry the Citadel’s territory with Abyssal Mist, the very same crap that had set the left tower ablaze with.
For a very long minute Grasp turned the wyrm’s guts inside out. Drahub, barely standing on his feet after the grueling battle, his own death, and resurrection, managed to cover the Dalrokts and a part of the Okhtans with his protective dome. It worked well enough in my opinion. The rest had to run, dodging deadly spits of flame. The Kobi, scurrying around the courtyard to restore order and collect all the trash that the Creepoars had left behind scattered in all directions, like cockroaches. They hid in the surviving tower, under the bridge, and in any and all cracks their little bodies could squeeze into.
Despite the injection of a solid dose of energy and adrenaline from the Grasp, I felt detached from the chaos going on about me; I automatically moved from place to place, bending down, dodging, and bouncing off if needed. Wherever Mist fell, life ceased to exist. There was no protection against it without a magic dome. Unfortunately, we couldn’t avoid casualties. Two Okhtans and three Kobi, who belatedly decided to run across the yard and hide in the tower with the rest, ran out of
luck. It looked awful, and no one really knew what was it that finished them off — the crimson flame or a cloud of purple spores that hit them at the same time.
Finally, a chime sounded from the sky, announcing that Grasp had ended successfully. The Executioner finally collapsed, bringing down the burning tower and most of the connecting bridge with its multi-ton corpse.
Executioner of the Rift has been defeated!
XP received: 36,666
Achievement unlocked: The Battle beyond the Edge III
For the first time in Lunar Rainbow, a group has destroyed an Executioner of the Rift, previously considered an indestructible creature.
This achievement will be imprinted in the Great Genesis Book and be known in all the worlds of the Universe ICS.
Reward: 30 (63) skill points; 30 (54) clan skill points; 1.0 save (5.25)
Once the dust had settled down, I approached the corpse and picked up my reward — a grade 4 esc, which Grasp had ripped out of the wyrm’s body along with its life. Seems that killing high-level bosses that are beyond your level makes them drop high-grade Crystals.
“Wise, you all right there? You won’t smash my face with Soulcatcher if I come closer? Just in case, I’ll say that there are no more enemies left here, the whole mound has been cleansed of Demons.”
Thoughtfully looking at the shimmering, purple esc, and not quite understanding what to do with it, I shoved it into my pouch and looked back at Stinger. He cautiously approached me with short steps, as if he was going to bounce away at any moment, and stopped before he reached me. Mashta’s head peeked out from behind him, and she looked at me, equally stunned. The rest, dispersed around the perimeter of the territory, preferred not to approach at all — the Okhtans, the Kobi, even the Dalrokts. Strange. I didn’t remember rampaging. The whole mess was seemingly the wyrm’s doing, not mine. Although, when someone effortlessly crushes two mini-bosses in front of you, you’ll think twice about whether it’s safe to approach the person who is, judging by their slowed reactions, clearly not being themselves.
“Hey, Sting, where are the Dions?” I asked in a voice that was devoid emotion.
“They left as soon as the fight was over. Should I send someone after them?”
“No, just asking...”
A pity. The Dions remain uncontrollable. Sending someone after them to try to stop them would be useless. Well, thanks for the help, guys, we wouldn’t have managed without you... At least we now know that they’ll come to our rescue if shit hits the fan again.
“Where’s Marana? I don’t see her, but judging by her stats, she’s seriously injured and needs help.”
“She was on the bridge, distracting the wyrm,” Mashta said puzzled, clutching the sling in one hand, and a stone in the other, as if fearing that a new attack would arrive at any moment. Or was it to be used against me, just in case?
Shoo, paranoia, no time for you. Shoo.
When the tower collapsed, Mashta was on the wall, and now a thick layer of dust covered her clothes. Her hair was tangled, muck and dirt both on it and her wet face, turning the pretty girl into a frightening scarecrow.
“I’m afraid that the debris buried her,” said the no less dusty Stinger gloomily, closely observing the ruins.
“She’s still alive. Follow me, quickly. Fury, stay here, you’re wounded enough as is.”
After leaving an order in the clan chat, all those who survived obediently rushed to clear the debris. Even the wounded and mutilated. The Dalrokts, the most powerful creatures among us at the moment, moved to the side the multi-ton stone blocks, while the rest raked and dragged away smaller fragments. The Kobi stirred about like working ants, lining up in several rows and passing pieces, some of which were bigger than themselves, to one another.
This work had to be done with extreme caution — on many fragments there were still smolders of Abyssal Mist. As soon as one touched it, flesh began to burn and rot at the same time. One of the careless Raksh cut off a few of his fingers with a dagger without hesitation to prevent it from spreading further up his arm — a decision worthy of respect. Unfortunately, one Kobi, not yet accepted into the clan, lost its hand to this dreadful fire. Its relatives took it to the tower, and it lost consciousness before the amputation; pain drove it into a coma. With such injuries, it would’ve been better to die and be reborn in the Cradle, but we had to delay extreme measures for now. Less than four hours remained until the Flame Phase. We needed everyone to protect the Citadel, and even a cripple was better than a dead man. One can still fight with one hand, but you not from the Mausoleum.
Ten minutes later, our search finally proved successful. The Dalrokts removed another piece of the wall, and finally found Marana. But, seeing in what condition she was, they didn’t dare touch her. After a short discussion, leaving me to deal with the problem myself, Chzher led all the rescuers away — to repair equipment, deal with loot, and recuperate for the next battle. I sent Rawrk with the rest of my raid to collect socs — hundreds of them were scattered along the serpentine and at the foot of the mound. Three of us were left standing next to the Succubus lying in the debris — Stinger, Mashta, and I.
“She won’t survive,” Mashta handed down the verdict, looking at Marana with genuine pity. “We don’t have healers, not like any doctor could help with this. I don’t understand how she’s still breathing. Maybe we should put her out of her misery...”
“No. Not yet.”
Looking down, so as not to step on one of the many corpses, I approached carefully and stopped next to Marana. I slowly squatted, resisting the fatigue that was pressing down my shoulders and spine.
It seemed that the she wasn’t aware of our presence, in spite of all the noise that we’ve made clearing the debris. Marana lay on her back, covered with a thick layer of red dust; the fire in her eyes, pointed at the overcast sky, was slowly fading along with her life. Her tortured face was contorted into a grimace of indescribable pain. Mist was slowly, but persistently eating way at her body, dissolving her skin and muscles into putrefactive jelly. In some places, it had already penetrated so deeply that one glance, even of an untrained eye, was all it took to make it clear that there was no use in trying to save her. It had eaten away her right side from the hip to the armpit, exposing insides that glistened wetly and white ribs; her left arm, from the claws to the elbow, was stripped to the nodular bones. Her stubbornness and high endurance were seemingly keeping her alive. I acutely regretted that Stinger had used our only Reanimator to save Drahub.
Having unhooked the flask from my belt, I brought it to her black lips, hoping that the Tincture would at least ease the pain. Marana barely managed to turn her head; her eyes said “no.” That’s right. There was no remedy to this poison, and any attempt to help only prolonged the torment. Perhaps a healer could still save her, but, as Mashta correctly noted, we didn’t have one.
“How many times have you died, Marana?” Stinger also stopped nearby. “How long will your resurrection take?”
I understood what was bothering him. Without Marana, there was no one to divert the attention of the next Executioner. Only one such creature nearly destroyed the whole Citadel, and next time there’ll surely be more of them. No, don’t think about that. We’re so close to succeeding...
Her lips quivered barely noticeably, and her regretful smile nearly broke my heart. Then her hand moved and her fingers wrapped around my wrist, scratching my skin and spilling blood. The grip was still strong, but her skin was no longer warm to the touch. But at least we could talk. This time there were less images, although still bright and chaotic, and more detailed thoughts. She learned quickly.
“She says that her resurrection will last for an eternity,” I smiled bitterly, answering Stinger’s question instead of her. “And that we won’t see each other again.”
“Come on,” Stinger frowned, dismissing such a statement, like an annoying fly. “Are you really going to wave the white flag now? After everything? All the dead go to the Mausoleu
m. We can get her out of there, like the rest.”
“Only the outcasts go to our Mausoleum,” I corrected. “The Demons have their own.”
“Is she not bound to ours?!” Stinger looked up from Marana at me and back, stunned by this statement. “Why didn’t she tell us?! We should’ve taken her to our Cradle, while we had a chance!”
“Was there even time for that? And who would’ve taken her anyway?” Mashta chuckled dejectedly. “We were all too busy with ourselves and the epic, and we looked at her like she would stab as at any moment.”
“Especially after she smashed Jeeva’s statue.” I nodded. “She felt guilty and didn’t want to press us. Nor did she dare to leave by herself, because she knew that the Citadel would soon need her.”
“Maybe it’s not too late?!” Stinger anxiously leaned forward; not knowing with his hands, he clutched the hilts of his daggers. “We can make a stretcher or something... Good God, we can just carry her in our arms!”
“We can’t even touch her, Sting. You know this, so stop. We’d be too late anyway. Can’t you see how fast her HP is dropping? There’s only one way.”
“And that’d be?”
“Do you have the Vial of Exchange Sacrifice with you? Or did you leave it in the Center?”
The rogue hastily thrust his hand into the pouch placed on the back of my belt. I took the Crystal from him and turned to the Succubus.
“Marana, you have a chance to stay with us, if you want. But you will have to become an offering. Voluntarily.”
Her eyes flashed brighter, almost as before. She instantly understood what I wanted to do and with all the remaining forces grasped at that hope. Her fingers squeezed my hand harder and even seemed to warm up.
“Do you want to send her to your List of the Dead?” Stinger scratched his head in doubt. “But she’s supposed to drop there anyway if she dies in your presence, right?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Marana isn’t tied to the Blood Phase and our reality. I think there’s a possibility that she won’t end on my List in case of death, so it makes sense to try make sure that that happens.”
Keymaster Page 47
