Life Reset: Conquest (New Era Online Book 5)
Page 19
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I said. I dismissed my clone and looked straight at the Ettin. My mana pool was holding steady at 60 percent. “Let’s dance.”
***
The mayor, an elder hob in expensive clothing, leaned out of his booth’s window. “What a marvelous show of unbridled violence, don’t you agree, Broncar?”
The other hob, a muscular giant with pale blue skin that made him look almost like an ice sculpture, didn’t seem impressed. “So far, I’ve seen nothing special. The goblin is adept at evading The Champion’s strikes, but once Bonecruncher gets his hands on him, it will all be over.”
“Oh, come on now, I was told he made quite a show of Terdamesh earlier. Makes me wish I was here to see it.”
“The mayor’s standing is too high to make an appearance at every riff-raff’s brawl,” Broncar said. “Now get back into the booth or you’ll fall over.”
“Take it easy,” his superior said lightly. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
Broncar narrowed his eyes, and his tone became menacing. “I might get tingled.”
The mayor grimaced. “Right. Forgot about that.” He leaned back into his seat. “Let’s just watch the fight.”
***
There! I thought excitedly. For a moment, I’d seen a head poking out of the high booth.
Two consecutive teleports put some distance between me and the raging behemoth, placing me just below the booth.
This was my moment to strike.
Bonecruncher charged at me, his heavy feet breaking the ground. I cast Shadow Web straight at his path, sticking him to the ground and halting his momentum. Not wasting the few precious seconds I’d just bought, I instantly cast Direball.
Instead of targeting the Ettin, I turned my back to him and launched the spell straight up at the booth. The crowd gasped and screamed as the ball of destruction soared through the air toward the wooden structure. With the Demon Staff in my hand, the spell was 30 percent more powerful than if cast by my clone – well above what was needed to reduce the target into a pile of smoldering timber.
However, things didn’t play out as I had expected. The direball detonated a meter before impacting the wooden structure, causing a shimmering globe of force to appear around it.
The mayor’s booth was warded.
The crowd’s screaming turned frantic, and they started running away.
“The mayor is under attack!” Glaive’s voice boomed. “Guards, get that goblin!”
Looked like my cordial relationship with the arena master had just taken a dive.
As if summoned by magic, hob warriors appeared from gates around the arena, but Bonecruncher was way ahead of them. The Ettin burst through the Shadow Web, ripping it apart like papier mâché, and came barreling right for me. I launched drilling arrows at his face, which he seemed to ignore, then lowered my staff, preparing to meet his attack. I was through running away.
It was time to bring out the big guns.
***
The mayor was running away!
The booth’s door below Lirian banged open, and two goblin servants sprinted out, followed by a richly dressed hob.
That was the moment she had been waiting for.
The goblin princess leapt from the top of the booth she’d been hiding on. Her Outrider sword was a gleaming blackness that seemed to swallow the few remaining rays of light.
The fleeing hob was caught completely off-guard. The sword came down with the goblinette’s entire weight and momentum behind it. The long blade sliced through expensive clothing that offered no protection, cleaving the mayor from shoulder to hip, nearly slicing him apart.
Lirian blinked in amazement at the hob. The wound she’d inflicted disappeared before her eyes.
“That tingled,” a menacing voice said from behind her.
Lirian spun around, bringing her sword up just in time to intercept a heavy punch that still threw her backward. A muscular, blue-skinned hob came out of the booth and cracked his neck. A shallow cut from his shoulder down to his hip was bleeding lightly, though it didn’t seem to bother him.
Broncar eyed the bewildered goblinette. “I hate getting tingled.”
***
Warning: Vow breach is imminent.
My eyes widened at the sudden message. Something had gone wrong, and Bonecruncher was seconds from crashing into me.
The booth was located above the outer edge of the spectator area, farther than I could cover in a single teleport. But I had no other choice.
I tried teleporting to a halfway point, but the attempt failed. A second layer of magic wards flared around the arena pit. I couldn’t reach her!
I glanced up at the roaring Ettin who was charging at me with the speed and strength of a locomotive. Then I looked down at the spear in my hand and braced against the ground, ready to receive his charge.
There was only one way I could get through to my daughter to save her.
I lifted the tip of the spear-staff, turning it away from the giant. I dropped my guard and braced myself for the coming blow.
The Champion’s attack sequence was just a haze. A chain wrapped around me, smacking me with the heavy spiked ball just as an acid-oozing cleaver nearly split me open, then my torn body was flattened against the arena wall by hundreds of kilos of Ettin.
But I wasn’t paying attention to him; I was already running through the world of shadows that came rushing in.
Nihilator’s Sanction triggered.
Due to receiving a fatal amount of damage, you have transformed into a being of shadow for one minute. You are completely undetectable and invulnerable for the duration and may move freely. Once the duration is over, you will return to the material plane, fully healed. Mana regenerates at the normal rate. This ability will not be usable again for the next 24 hours.
The arena wards didn’t extend into the shadow realm. I ignored insubstantial walls and escaping civilians, running up, up toward my daughter. Shadows flowed into me, rapidly restoring my health.
I reached the top just in time.
Lirian was sprawled on the floor. She seemed uninjured, though she groaned as she slowly got to her feet and picked up her sword.
A powerful-looking, blue-skinned hob watched her patiently, allowing her to collect herself. The brute didn’t even bother drawing out his weapon. “Capture or kill?”
“Capture,” a richly dressed hob spat out behind him. “But don’t be too gentle about it, Broncar.”
The hob named Broncar nodded and reached for my daughter with one muscled arm, ignoring her as she swung back her sword.
Lirian brought down Fate Stealer and teleported herself mid-swing, appearing behind the muscled bodyguard and delivering a powerful blow to his back.
I blinked in surprise. I’d seen Lirian kill enemies twice her level with such hits, so I expected the strike to at least cause some heavy damage. Instead, it only shaved off about a hundred HP.
Broncar spun around and grabbed Lirian’s neck, lifting her from the ground. She kicked and teleported away again, this time aiming her sword at the almost bored-looking mayor.
Her sword stopped a centimeter from his neck, held back by the shaft of a spear that emitted frost vapors.
There was no time to lose. Up until now, the bodyguard, a level 120, tier 4 boss, wasn’t taking the fight seriously. But now that he’d drawn his weapon, a mere scratch would be enough to break my vow and spell our doom.
Tendrils of information were woven in weird patterns between the mayor and his bodyguard, strongly hinting that any damage done to the mayor would be muted and transferred to the blue-skinned hob.
My health was only at 50 percent when I forcefully ended the sanction. I stepped out of the shadow realm, already casting my next spell.
“Father!” Lirian exclaimed.
I ignor
ed her cry. I had to remain focused.
I finished the spell and six, level 42 mastiffs rose from the surrounding shadows and pounced on the mayor.
The blue hob’s spear pushed against Lirian’s sword, sending the goblinette hurtling backward. He turned, his weapon a whirlwind of stabs and parries, disintegrating my hounds back into the shadows. A single mastiff managed to bite the mayor’s leg, but the wound simply transferred to Broncar, and a second later, the hound was crushed like the rest.
With all six hounds taken care of, Broncar moved to put himself before the mayor, facing Lirian and me. “Capture both?” he asked calmly.
“No,” the mayor snarled. “Kill them.” He looked straight at me. “This goblin has been a thorn in my side for far too long. It’s time we teach the goblins their rightful place in the world.”
“Right back at you,” I said.
I moved my arm aside, revealing the black bone dagger at my belt, letting it hover into the air.
Broncar eyed the flying dagger, unconcerned. “That isn’t nearly strong enough to kill me.”
“No,” I agreed. “And any damage done to the mayor is transferred to you, I get it.”
To my surprise, the bodyguard grinned at me. “You’re a smart one. You’re almost a challenge. I should thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.” I nodded at him. “You’re right. The dagger in itself doesn’t do much damage. I usually use it in a combo when I freeze my targets first, but that won’t work on you; you’re a little out of my league.”
The muscular hob smiled. “Would you like to surrender then? I’ll make your death quick if you do.”
“Well …” I said conversationally. “I said I can’t freeze you, but I bet I can freeze him.”
Broncar’s eyes widened in alarm as he realized why I was stalling. While we were talking, I’d maneuvered the dagger to flank the mayor. Thinking my daughter and me to be the greater threat, the bodyguard hadn’t moved to stop the flying weapon. And now it was poised to strike.
I froze the mayor, who was a mere level 30, tier 1 boss. Broncar made a desperate move to intercept my dagger, but the weapon was already soaring forward. It plunged into the mayor’s neck, doing no damage. An instant later, my dagger was in Broncar’s hand, and he had a small bleeding wound in his neck.
The guardian gaped at his employer.
“You see,” I continued pleasantly, “the dagger can’t injure the mayor while you guard him, but lucky for me, it has a nifty effect that automatically triggers when it hits a helpless or immobile target. It looks kind of like this.” I released the frozen hob.
The mayor frowned, raising one hand to his uninjured neck. A blot of darkness remained where the dagger had struck. It grew rapidly, sending black tendrils that spread out like a spiderweb over the hob’s throat, and raced to engulf his head and torso.
Akzar’s Mayor sacrificed!
+45 Faith Points
Immortal Killed!
Boss Tier 4 Progression: 7/200
You have defeated the leaders of Akzar.
You may demolish the town and plunder its riches or take control over it, turning it into a new vassal settlement.
Demolish/Control
Broncar took one unsure step toward me, lifting his spear.
I simply grinned at him and opened my mouth to speak the word. I wanted to savor this moment. “Control.”
Capital advancement to Level 5 (City): 66%
The shadows around us spiraled upward into a gigantic hurricane of blackness. The darkness deepened as the hurricane grew even larger, dyeing the streets and the buildings in deep black, infecting everyone around. The spinning maelstrom grew larger, spreading outward, until it encompassed the entire city, leaving behind dark and menacing streets.
Akzar had joined the GreenPiece Clan. This was my city now.
The inner goblin in me purred at the overpowering sense of victory and conquest. I closed my eyes in delight, basking in the warm glow.
I opened them when I heard a single person clapping.
Mya was approaching us, clapping her hands. “Congratulations, Chief.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you.” I grinned at her. “Say, how do you feel about becoming Akzar’s head shaman?”
She returned my grin. “I would be honored, but won’t Terdamesh be pissed off once he respawns?”
“Oh, he won’t be coming back. As a Totem that secured his position by killing his predecessor, you can take my word for it. As the GreenPiece Clan chief, I hereby crown you as Akzar’s new head shaman.”
She bowed her head respectfully. “Thank you, Chief.”
I turned to look at Broncar. The hob stood rigidly in the same spot. His light-blue skin was now patched with darkness. His eyes met mine, and he gave me a curt nod. “Your command, Chief?”
“We’re going to war.”
Interlude: Ragnar
Sir Lanceington rode his warhorse through the army camp, his eyes calculating as he took in the forces at his disposal. “How many troops do we have so far?”
“Just under 6,000, sir,” said a high-ranking officer riding next to the commander.
The commander frowned as he looked at a couple of barely armored soldiers struggling to raise a tent. “Many seem ill-fitted for the fight ahead. If I was back in Everance … a single elven platoon is worth half of this force.”
“Most of our forces came from Storg and Whitebanner, sir, and are battle-tested soldiers. The rest are militiamen from the smaller settlements. A few hundred here, a couple dozen there. The most they’ve had to handle up until now was the occasional snoopy goblin.”
Sir Lanceington nodded. “We’ll need to make sure to use them as a reserve force, then; let the real soldiers carry the brunt of the attack.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What have the scouts discovered so far?”
“The monsters have complete control over the two hamlets, sir.”
The officer’s voice was hesitant, the commander noted. “Tell me what you know.”
“It’s unconfirmed, sir, but it seems that the hamlets’ populations have been …” He winced.
The commander shook his head slowly. “Viciously executed? I’d expected as much.”
“No, sir,” the officer said. “My reports state that they’ve somehow been converted and are now working alongside the monsters. They even show some monstrous features of their own.”
Sir Lanceington frowned. “That’s impossible.”
“That is why I've been hesitant to relay this information, sir, despite it coming from reliable scouts.”
The riding duo arrived at the command tent and dismounted.
“That is worrying,” the commander admitted, passing the two guards stationed outside as he entered. “But it does not change our plans. How are their fortifications looking?”
“Both towns’ walls have been fortified with a high wooden palisade. Claytown’s marshy surroundings make it a more problematic target to approach. Woodhaven, on the other hand …” The officer approached a table and placed a finger on the map lying on top of it, “… is located close to the Great Northern Forest. The ground there is more stable and our scouts can use the trees for cover to spy on the enemy.”
“In either case, we won’t be able to keep our movements hidden,” the commander mused. “They’ll concentrate their forces if we move the entire army on one hamlet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sir Lanceington’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Then let us use it to our advantage. How many elites do we have?”
“Two dozen highly experienced knights, sir. Some of Storg and Whitebanner’s finest.”
“Good, let’s send half of them to the other–”
“You can’t come inside!” a gruff voice said from outside.
“Keep that hand to yerself, boy, or you might accidentally lose it,” a growling voice replied.
The commander’s brow creased. “Who’s that outside?”
&
nbsp; “It’s that dwarf traveler, sir,” one of the tent’s guards said.
The two men looked at each other and something passed between them.
“Let him in,” the officer said in exasperation.
Ragnar walked into the tent, his thumbs hooked into the sides of his belt. “Some fine boys you got yourself out there. Sweet an’ tender; them beasties will love ’em.”
The commander crossed his arms. “What do you want?”
“We’ll be attacking them greenskins tomorrow?”
“At first light.”
“Good,” Ragnar grunted. “Them greenies don’t do too good in the light.”
“Was there something specific you wanted?” the officer asked.
“Got a plan on how to do this?”
“ We do,” The officer answered, and both soldiers looked at the dwarf pointedly.
Ragnar only grinned. “Fine, keep yor damn plans for yourself, just make sure to get their temple a-sap.”
“Why?” the commander asked.
Ragnar chuckled. “Looks like yor scouts ain’t much. Them greenskins get lots ‘o power from their temples. Take it ’way from ’em, and you got yerself some weak-ass beasties, ripe for the killin’.”
The commander nodded stiffly. “We will take your recommendation under advisement.”
Ragnar shrugged, his eyes gleaming manically. “Just thought I’d let you bigshots know. I’ll be in there bleedin’ them greenies left and right. Oh, and look out for the chief. That’d be the ugly one with feathers on his skull.”
“Is that all?” the officer asked coolly.
“Just try an’ have some fun, boys. Forecast for tomorrow; it’s gon’ get bloody.” He turned and exited the tent.
“What a head case,” the officer muttered.
“True, though he did offer interesting observations,” Sir Lanceington said. “Call in the rest of the senior officers. I want us to go over the attack plan one more time. We need to make sure we’re as ready as possible. Tomorrow, we take back our settlements.”