Dissonance a litrpg adve.., p.51
Dissonance: A LitRPG Adventure, page 51
part #1 of Unbound Series
A relentless, overpowering heat poured from Atar. The Crown amplified the effects of Immolation as he became subsumed in light. The beast slowed its charge, finally feeling the effects of Atar's powerful Spirit, or perhaps the resistance of the Ofrenok surrounding it. True fear must be surging in its primitive brain, he crowed internally. Only natural, for true destruction invokes terror in all.
"Face me, beast!" Atar sent a flurry of Sparkbolts out toward the monstrosity, each one a sizzling speck against its immense hide. But they did their job, driving the mindless beast into continuing its charge.
Rising up within him, a strident horn sounded, a call to arms and a rush of thunderous beats upon a drum the size of a mountain. It filled his body with a terrifying vigor even as that dim portion of himself cried out in despair.
Something was coming. Something he had never before experienced, a tearing within his soul that his compartmentalized self found agonizing. But confidence and rage poured from his Crown, and Atar laughed away the limb-rattling anticipation even as his Mana use surged.
The beast was within twenty feet now; it wasn't stopping, heat or no.
Atar snarled, his face a rictus of pain and ecstasy. He would tear this beast limb from limb, rendering its body into Avum chow with nothing more than his bare hands. Only two seconds, then he'd soak his Spiritual Immolation deep into his flesh, burning it for a boost in physical stats: Strength Ignition, his greatest trump Skill.
The beast bore down, only a dozen feet away now, and Atar shifted his Skill and pushed. The fire invaded his flesh, filling him to bursting as his physical stats skyrocketed beyond his limits. He felt invincible, untouchable. He rushed forward, tearing down two of the lesser creatures on his path toward the behemoth. He went through them like tissue paper. He came up short and braced himself, confident in stopping its rampage.
Then his Mana guttered out.
"No," eyes wide, the mage stared at his darkened hands. "No!" Weakness invaded Atar's flesh like a rot, withering his muscles and dropping him to the ground. The hulking monster didn't stop, it only bellowed out rage and an all-consuming hunger from its faceless maw.
Then, from nowhere the muscle-bound bumpkin hurtled into the behemoth, diverting its forward momentum just before it hit the mage. The earth shook as the hulk took several booming steps to catch itself, even as Felix crawled over and jumped aside.
A sudden glimmer of steel caught Atar's fading vision, the last flickers of firelight gleaming from her chain as it lassoed the beast about the neck. Blades dug into scaled flesh with a heavy shunk as the chain massively increased in weight, and Evie hauled on the line. Mere moments later, the crackle of azure lightning assaulted the monstrosity as well; Felix's strange magic grabbed hold of it, tipping the scales and sending it toppling to the ground.
No! That’s my kill! Rage beyond words tumbled through his mind, and something in his chest finally tore completely. Like a cheesecloth put to torch, whatever covered him was consumed in a flash of pain and power.
Atar's body suddenly surged with unspent potency as a chord within him reverberated uncontrollably. The mage's skin burst with scorching hot fire Mana until it flowed out from him like an insufferable cloak. The Ofrenok all around him evaporated into ash as this concentrated power splashed against them, until the area within three yards of him was completely clear of life. All he could hear was a resounding beat that shook his body, all he could feel was the crashing melody of a triumphant horn that shook his very bones.
But he could still see. The shirtless fool rushed toward him, intent on stopping Atar's glorious ascent.
No! The ever-dimming portion of himself cried out. You're burning yourself up! Wake up!
Wake up!
But he only dimmed further, until the world faded to black.
Felix rushed to Atar, lifted his body up and checked his pulse. He was surprisingly light.
"He's alive," Felix breathed. This close, the residual heat of the Crown the mage once wore remained, and the ground itself was baked dry in a range of four yards. Moreover, the remnant of the orchestral music from before faded, a denouement that settled into silence.
Felix looked up, but there was only silence from his party. He turned, finding Evie on her knees, eyes half closed as she was wracked by a similar distress. He called out to her, but she didn't respond. Then, a wave of deep blue Mana poured from her body, crashing against the few remaining Ofrenok arrayed against her. Distantly, a frenetic drumming pounded, a cymbal crash against a stormy sea made of a series of rising chords, pushing at the sky itself. It peaked, then fell.
The music...it's their Reveal? I'm hearing their Reveal?
The Ofrenok had all fallen, scorched into nothing or bashed against the rocky ground by relentless waves. Seeing both Evie and Atar down but breathing, Felix searched for the third. Some distance away, surrounded by the minced corpses of her enemies, Vessilia half-knelt against the earth. Spear planted and body heaving, he caught the last moments of her own Reveal. Near-invisible gusts spun around her, shearing through any corpse too close. The ground around her was a soaked field of offal and gore, her body covered in more of the green ichor.
Setting Atar down again, Felix moved closer to her in the hopes that she was likewise alright. Once within a few yards, he could make out a fading sound. However, before it vanished, he perceived a cool clarity, a balm of trilling uptempo woodwinds. This song was an allegro spring breeze, balanced between winter's cold edge and summer's promised warmth.
She didn't move except to breathe, eyes closed but somehow locked in place.
"The Reveals are complete."
Felix turned toward Magda, who had reappeared on the field after leaving them to fight.
He was bone weary, and only mustered a frown. "They're hurt. We need to leave before more monsters arrive." Felix's own Stamina was dangerously low, though he'd be fine given a few minutes’ rest.
Magda nodded, face serious but a certain pride showing through her eyes as she regarded the Tin Ranks. "They did well, all things considered." She turned to Felix. "As did you, Felix. I'm impressed you're still able to stand after your display."
Felix straightened, his body creaking and popping in protest. "I did what I could."
"And it was enough." Magda nodded and turned toward her sister and Atar. "Thank you."
Felix chewed his lip, considering the shield warrior as she walked away. Then he turned toward Vessilia and got his arm under her.
It was going to be a long walk back up those stairs.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Felix was right. The stairs were a haul.
Carrying a fully-armed and armored Vessilia was a challenge. She wasn't hard to lift, however, and was surprisingly easy considering she and all her gear was likely clocking in at 190 pounds. Mostly, it was her limp form and having to drag around a goddamn eight-foot spear.
It got caught on everything.
The struggle eased into monotony after a short while though, and Felix's mind began to unpack. They had fought and killed a large number of creatures in a short period of time. His kill notifications indicated he had dispatched twenty-one, both alone and in concert with the Tin Ranks. Now, he didn't find himself choked with guilt or anything. Those beasts wanted to eat him, and he was just fine destroying them instead. It had been a wild and hectic battle, yet he had felt a profound rightness to it all that, in retrospect, felt odd. When had he reveled in combat?
Perhaps it was inevitable. So much of his time on the Continent had been spent in fear, in confusion, or a combination of the two. Now that he was finding himself more potent than ever, why wouldn't he marvel at his own strength? He punched a monster straight through its chest! It hadn't hurt him at all! It had, in fact, felt like breaking through drywall. Feats like this were impossible back on Earth.
This entire world feels impossible. Terrifying and awful at times, but astounding just the same. His mind drifted to the magical Skills he was accruing, a childhood dream he had long since abandoned, now coming true. They have to have wizard schools here, right? Felix the Wizard sounds too good not to happen.
He even had potentially more Skills to acquire after today's fight. He patted his satchel, within which were the two vials of blood he'd managed to fill from the Ofrenok and Ofrehulk's corpses. Those were for later.
Around halfway up the third floor, Felix finally gave into his curiosity. He toggled his notifications, solidifying his new growth.
Heat Resistance is level 19!
Long Blade Mastery is level 15!
Blind Fighting is level 19!
Corrosive Strike is level 20!
Armored Skin is level 23!
Intimidation is level 4!
Bastion of Will is level 30!
Analyze is level 23!
Dual Casting is level 17!
Acid Stream is level 24!
Influence of the Wisp is level 23!
+1 AGL
+1 DEX
Hell. Yes. He had bumped up so many things, all of which were among his lower Skills. Ah, damn. I completely forgot to use Shadow Whip and Mantle of the Long Night. Ugh. Wasted opportunity.
Felix had decided he was in desperate need of a way to incorporate as many of his Skills as possible into a solidified fighting style. It'd maximize his leveling gains and keep that nagging voice quiet, the one that insisted that any Skill below level 20 was dragging him down and should be leveled immediately. It wasn't wrong, per se, but it was an echo of his childhood when he'd not be done with a game until he'd reached max level, max stats, all the important items and weapons. Felix had long ago accepted that this was not a game, and that his new life had deadly consequences. But, even still...
Gaining Skill levels and stats was immensely satisfying.
Felix frowned at his notifications, realizing he didn't make his next level. While no XP bar existed (to his knowledge), he could still feel how close he was to another level, and Felix felt only a hairsbreadth away from level 20.
Pit, however, did level up.
Your Companion Pit Has Gained 2 Levels!
+4 VIT! +4 PER! +8 AGL! +8 DEX! +6 WIL! +2 END! +4 INT!
"Scavenger," Felix eyed his Companion who trotted up the stairs beside him. "You snaked my experience!"
Pit warbled enthusiastically. He'd been extra affectionate since he rejoined Felix; the distinct feeling of being left out and worried had dominated the tenku. Felix had found out that Magda had sealed the archway with one of her force walls, allowing Pit to look into the room but be unable to help. This all came to him in a rush from Pit, who pushed his strange sense-emotions onto Felix with all the grace of a dump truck.
He had hugged his friend for a long while, sending his regret and assurance that he was fine.
Still, he grumbled to himself. Having a Race with an experience penalty is bad enough, but I'm also sharing with Pit. Hard not to feel a little cheated.
The stairs finally ended. They had felt interminable, long enough that Vessilia was beginning to come around in his arms.
"Who—?" She mumbled. Her face was in the crook of his neck as Felix had her in a classic princess carry, and she blinked up at him with half-closed eyes. "Where are we?"
"Back at the top of the tower, Duchess," Felix grunted as he took the last step into their floor.
Vessilia shook her head. "I'm not-" Her eyes shot open wide as she got a better look at Felix. "P-put me down!"
"Oh, sure," Felix set her on her feet, and the woman quickly backed up. "Sorry if I—sorry. Here." Felix held out her silver spear, and Vessilia snatched it from his hand. She was blushing furiously.
Shit, did I do something inappropriate? He had held her, but that wasn't weird, right? He was just bringing her back up the tower, just like Magda was doing...
Felix turned to see Magda walk into the room, holding her sister and Atar by the back of their armor. Their bodies dragged limply against the floor, and both were starting to come around. Felix grimaced; their shins were gonna be bruised all to hell.
"Took ya all long enough," groused a familiar voice. Felix spotted Harn in the tiered fire pit, which was still unlit. He looked tired from this distance, and he slapped at the large corpse next to him. It was another Hoarhound. "C'mon and help me cook this damn thing before it dissolves on us."
Magda and Felix got to work. The Tin Ranks were left to recuperate at the edge of the fire, though Harn managed to coax Atar into lighting some kindling, though from the look on his face, the mage regretted it immediately. Magda had Felix move the monster over to the side, where she started dressing the kill.
"Why did they pass out?" Felix asked, looking back at his ragged allies.
"You didn't?" Magda asked without looking up or stopping her knife. "The old-timers think a Reveal is all about a build up of energy that eventually wears away at the nugget of destiny that each of us holds within. But once Revealed, all that energy's gotta go somewhere, so it spills out." Magda punctuated her words by scooping a mess of blue-grey sacks from the Hoarhound's chest cavity. She slopped them over to the side, unceremoniously. "The energy takes from your body, too, draining Stamina, Mana, and a little Health, too. Leaves most people damn near unconscious, if not completely out." She made a few more cuts along the creature's underside that Felix couldn't see.
"How are you doing that?" Felix marveled as the Hoarhounds fur almost jumped off its body, Magda's Skill at Skinning or Butchering or whatever proving to be much higher than even his best Skill. "All the monsters I've fought turn to greasy smoke not long after."
Magda nodded at her hand, where she held her knife against the meat of the beast. "Enchanted knife. Preserves the kill and stops it from decaying. Once butchered, the meat won't smoke up anymore, just rot like normal flesh does."
"Handy."
Magda grunted in affirmation and got back to work.
Thirty minutes later, the fire was crackling and a heaping slab of meat was cooking on the makeshift spit. Pit was off in the corner, chowing down on the guts from the Hoarhound. The Tin Ranks were more alert and less shaky, though Evie was uncharacteristically silent and Atar resolutely stared anywhere but at the fire. Felix, meanwhile, chewed the inside of his cheek and watched them all, silently hoping the food would get done faster. He was, of course, starving again.
Most surprisingly, up close, Harn looked even more tired looking than the Tin Ranks. He had bags under his eyes, several bruises on his face, and his armor was covered in new scratches.
"So," Magda said, breaking the silence. "What happened?"
He let out a slow breath before answering.
Using Felix's directions, Harn had easily found the shit pit where the prisoners were kept. Getting close to it, however, was a damn sight harder.
His Brawler's Physique and specialized Body enhanced his senses much more than Magda's Tempering. He could navigate the blasted fog better than most, but distances still frustrated him. Harn had to evade several large patrols between the tower and the Risi encampment. Each was made up of four Hoarhounds and three or more Risi Warriors, and though most only had a half-stage Body at best, he still had to take the long way around. It wasn't that they were tough; far from it, Harn could have taken their lives easy as breathing. It was that he was scouting, not fighting.
Scoutin' not fightin', He repeated to himself. Even if his axes were getting real thirsty.
Once inside their encampment, the giant's security was much more lax. Groups of warriors congregated around their strange cold fires, while food and drink was passed around heartily. Harn slipped among them like a fish into water, his Stealth more than a match for careless eyes. The structure where the prisoners were being kept was off a little ways from the plaza square, tucked behind a large ice-covered collonnade. Within the enclosure, which had only the barest suggestion of walls, ice coated everything, a permanent decoration courtesy of the giants' bitter magic. Rags and paltry blankets were strewn about, as well as the charred remains of a fire. Bones of some sort were piled in a corner, and in another, someone had carved a large hole into the ice for a latrine.
Harn frowned. There were no people.
The prisoner's area was completely empty. He hadn't been expecting it to be full, but no sick? No injured? The icy conditions and lack of shelter alone would lead to sickness among the weaker-constituted folk, not to mention the wounded from down below. Harn worried that the weak were either left in the sinkhole, or they were disposed of up here. He could find no evidence either way, mostly due to the disarray of the encampment. Someone had at least made the latrine and had most of the garbage piled in one corner. He was betting that was Cassie's influence.
There was little to examine there, and Harn went about on the second part of his mission. He headed to the bronze dome.
Situated in the center of the camp, the squat building dominated the area. Not only was it the tallest structure standing for nearly a mile, but it was covered in an almost delicate layer of ice. The ice itself shimmered dully in the darkness, giving off a distinct purple-white glow.
The whole building's warded. Didn't know ice magic could do that...
Yesterday, when he was scouting this camp, he had noted the building but not the wards. In the dim sunlight and heavy fog that sheen was nearly invisible. Harn found a spot across the square, hidden and high, where he could wait and watch. He had a good angle and could even see directly into the building, to an extent. The mist confused his senses a time or two, but Harn had spent a long time honing his abilities, and he knew how to be patient. Regardless, nothing happened for a painfully long hour. When it did, it all happened at once.
The sky was just barely lightening up with the approaching sun when the purple-white Mana flickered and disappeared. The massive bronze doors in the front of the building creaked open on ancient hinges, making an almighty racket, and out strode the biggest giant Harn had ever seen. When he had first caught sight of them, he had been impressed by the Risi's imposing aura. Today was no different. Easily twenty-five feet tall, he was a slab of muscle and fur, striding purposely out of the bronze dome. Trailing behind him were three other giants, and for the first time Harn saw a Risi that wasn't bearded. Built very similar to their male counterparts, the female Risi were dressed in robes and furs as they all but glided along after their leader.
