There was barely a second’s pause before the first monster attacked. The toad-like thing launched itself with a speed far beyond what he’d seen from the others of its kind, its toothy maw bared open. Flynn just barely managed to throw himself aside in time, dodging its nasty rows of shark-like teeth even as he brought his bow to bear on the verminous creature. A thwang echoed as an arrow struck it square against the side of its head, putrid blood splattering from the wound as the creature fell dead.
Flynn couldn’t even relish the victory, his moment stolen away by the urgency of an attack by two more of the things. The youth tried to respond on time, his arms straining to move his bow into position, but they were too close, and he too slow. The first managed to score a bite against his leg. White-hot pain coursed up the limb, tearing a scream from his lips. Flynn's eyes watered, but instincts he’d never put to the test surged up to the surface to take command. Ignoring the one making a mess of his leg, Flynn drew back and put an arrow into the other that’d aimed for his neck.
Its corpse crashed lifelessly onto the ground, sliding until it came to a stop inches from his face. Another arrow put an end to the fucking thing on his leg, and Flynn kicked away the corpse with a scowl before he turned his attention to the remaining horde scrambling towards him. His scowl fell away then. There were so many. Too many.
He laughed at the sight; his mind suddenly swept up in a rush of frenzy and mixed emotion.
He wasn’t sure why. It’d been the same with the ape and the same ever since crazy became the chosen flavour of the day. Was he happy to die? Did he even have time to care?
No. Flynn grit his teeth and nocked his bow.
That was when Cheek erupted into the space. The little bowst fluttered down into the space beside him. It was its usual cheery self for a scant second, but then it took one leg at his bleeding leg and the horde coming down on them and he felt that cheer bubble and twist until pure unadulterated rage surged down their bond.
An arrow manifested thick with his mana and the bowst sent it screaming into the midst of the monsters.
An explosion of light and noise followed, twice as bright and loud as anything it’d done before. Flynn flinched away from the blast even as he hurriedly climbed up to his feet. His leg ached beneath him as he settled his weight on it, but not so harshly that he couldn’t run if he needed to. Small mercies.
And he would need to.
Ahead, the effects of Cheek’s din had started to settle. The monsters were already almost fully recovered. He didn’t have time to spare.
A quick glance at his surroundings revealed that he was in some kind of cavern, dimly lit by the same ambient light as the tunnel. It was just as fleshy as the tunnel had been, the ceiling was low enough that a jump would slam his head into it, and strange growths that looked like grasping hands sprouted from the ground at no set pattern.
Flynn cared for none of that. He was looking for an escape, or barring that, a killing ground. Somewhere to either barricade himself, or make their numbers advantage meaningless. It was hard going. The gloom obscured most of everything in the far distance. Still, by luck he found what he’d been looking for: a narrow opening clouded in shadow.
It would have to do.
Flynn immediately made a break for it, a call on his lips for Cheek to follow. Despite the buzz of sensation and feeling that wrought his mind in a tumult, it only took him three seconds to realize that he couldn’t feel the little feller trailing behind him.
He swerved; eyes wide with alarm as he saw Cheek charge into the monsters instead.
Why?!
His answer came swiftly. It slammed sight-first into the face of a monster that’d been coming at him from his side, close enough that it might’ve bowled him over before he’d even seen it. He swore. What happened to his Monster Sense?!
It was overwhelmed, he realized. Too many of the things everywhere for it to be of much use here. He swore. The monster yelped with pain as it staggered back from Cheek’s strike, but it was quick to recover. It’d been a spirited attempt, but the construct’s little body couldn’t produce the strength needed to do any real damage.
The creature snarled, beady eyes full of menace, and lunged at Cheek. His arrow made it a corpse before its feet had left the ground. And so was the other that’d leapt at the bow from its other side, but not the third. His shot swerved too wide, and the monster was free to barrel into Cheek before it bit hard onto its limbs. Flynn thought he heard the echo of wood crunching from the distance.
Worse, he felt a message shoot into him from their bond. Scattered feelings and confused intent mingled, but it still only took him a second to realize what it was telling him.
Run.
And then the little bow disappeared. Not died. Not defeated. It just popped out of being. Whispers of instinct told Flynn what’d happened immediately, and he erupted away from the horde, sprinting across the fleshy terrain as fast as he could go.
As he ran, he resummoned the little bugger who’d unsummoned himself – he felt stupid for not considering that it could do that - and swiftly caught it when it began to glide weakly to the ground.
Cheek wasn’t in good shape. He winced as he felt its pain through their bond.
Its limbs were marred with scratches and dents, and a sizable crack wormed its way down near the grip. Was that a grievous wound? He couldn’t tell. It had no blood to bleed, and no flesh to tear.
Cheek sent a whimper of something approaching tiredness through their link, and Flynn grimaced. It was all he could do to will it away, unsummoned to whatever place it went to.
Hopefully, there it could heal.
Behind, he felt his illusion fade and the monsters take flight again. They were ravenous, their roars melding into one singular bestial cry.
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He felt the stomp of their feet as they returned to the chase. They were too late.
Flynn sent a Spectacle Arrow shooting into the opening. Light bloomed inside, revealing a narrow corridor that stretched no more than ten feet before it met a wall. No monsters as far as he could see, but it was still a dead-end. He swore. If he couldn’t stem the tide whilst inside, the corridor could very well become his coffin.
He swatted away the thought. He had no time for pessimism. Think positive, positive, positive. He'd make it out of this. He had to.
Flynn slid inside and took up position a few feet from the door. It was wide enough for two of the monsters to charge in side-by-side. Not perfect, but a far better alternative to being surrounded.
He steeled himself before he nocked another arrow and prepared for what could be the fight of his life. The fight for his life.
He had seconds before the first of the tide slammed into the opening. The monsters thrashed and fought amongst themselves to be the first inside. Flynn thanked them for making it easier on him. He loosed a simple mana arrow right into the face of one in front. It died instantly, only for its corpse to be used as a stepping stone by another. The monster leapt right into the path of another arrow that gouged a hole into its neck.
It fell, and another brick was laid. A wall, he thought as he shot another arrow. He needed to build a wall of corpses. It was his best hope. Others started to clamber over, and Flynn put them down as fast as he could. His arm was a blur of motion, his fingers red and steadily more pained by the press of string against skin.
More corpses fell, but the monsters were frenzied. They clambered faster than he could kill them. A Spectacle Arrow summoned a crackle of lightning, and the horde broke their advance and flinched away. Their surprise lasted long enough that he could score a few kills.
Still, it was just a brief reprieve. The things were inching their way towards him, their path paved upon a bed of corpses. But they didn’t seem to care. Not a very love-thy-neighbour sort of being, he thought amidst the haze of combat. A small smile crawled across his lips before his mind again settled into stillness.
The corridor resounded with the constant thwang of his arrow as he felled what might’ve been his fifteenth monster since the ordeal began, and still the tide looked never ending. The din of their roar was deafening inside his small space, but Flynn hardly had the time to care about that. His whole being had been focused onto his bow, arrows streaming forth like parts churned out from a factory conveyor belt. Distantly, he felt his mana start to dip low, and that recognizable exhaustion start to worm its way into his body.
He grit his teeth. He couldn’t afford to keep firing relentlessly. The exhaustion of mana drain would leave him helpless against the monsters. But what else could he do? He had no other choice.
No other weapons. All he needed was something to buy him a few minutes to recover. His brain raced at a mile a minute. The thought came to him then. Flynn chucked another Spectacle Arrow at the horde, blinding them with light. It’d make them flinch, and those precious few seconds would be enough. He threw down his backpack and snatched the monster tooth from the side-pocket. It was no knife, but it was big and sharp and it’d do in a pinch.
And he was in a real tight pinch. Flynn settled the tooth in a knife-grip in one hand with the bow held in the other. The first monster to recover from the light leapt above the corpses of its fellows. He pushed toward it, which it clearly hadn’t expected. He saw a flash of surprise in its malevolent eyes, and in the span of that opportunity, he struck with unbridled viciousness. The tooth cut into its eye with unerring accuracy, a fount of torrid black blood erupting from the wound. The creature screamed until he jerked the tooth, and its croaks went quiet.
Flynn hardly had a second to catch his breath before the next one was on him, a shrill shriek resounding within the corridor. He pulled up the knife, but the creature was already on him. Recognizing that he had no time, he abandoned the tooth and instead shoulder-slammed into its face, rocking its smaller form away long enough for him to twist back and retrieve his weapon. The tooth flashed again, cutting through its mouth to kill it dead before it had the time to consider retaliating.
The sound of movement caught his ears, and Flynn’s eyes snapped up to study the two monsters descending on him with hunger and hate and all things a beast thought as it clamoured for its prey. Flynn rose to meet them. He was no prey, and his makeshift-dagger cut through them as proof positive.
◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆
His body ran on autopilot. He wasn’t sure how long it’d been, or how many monsters he’d killed. At one point, the wall of their corpses had loomed so high that it’d actually stopped them from attacking him. He’d earned a small reprieve then, but the fucking things had been smart enough to start clearing the way. He’d heard their efforts through the barricade of flesh, heard them dragging away bodied so that the carnage could renew.
Still, the break had been long enough for the powers-that-be to acknowledge his gains.
You have earned a level
4 >> 5
You have earned a class spell
Shroud
Shroud
Class Spell - Rank 1
?
Shroud yourself with an illusion. The illusion can mimic your background or take the form of an object or being. The illusion can move as you move - though the mana drain increases accordingly - and lasts as long as it is supplied with mana. The illusion cannot mask sounds and smells and can be seen through by other spells.
A new spell? Flynn read the description, hope blooming and dying in the same breath as his eyes danced over the words. He clenched his fists and dismissed the page after. The spell was useful, undeniably.
But it wouldn’t save his ass here. It wouldn’t stop the monsters or help him tear a path towards escape. It might help him hide after but getting there was the problem he faced.
At least he had a point to allocate towards END. It was a small boon, but he’d eagerly take every small advantage he could.
He sighed. The din of their work had grown louder. They weren’t far off now, and soon enough the battle would start again.
He’d felt his gut lurch at the thought. His body ached, fresh new bruises and gashes added to the wound on his leg. Marks of his survival. Another monster rushed him, and a thwang of his arrow saw it dead mid-leap. The slaughter had eventually become a game, in a way.
Him constantly switching between bow and dagger, trying to best conserve his strength for the long run, whilst the monsters tried to wear him down with sheer weight of numbers.
And they would. At some point, he’d realized that they were winning. For all that he could conserve his mana, his physical stamina was still draining. Flynn managed a swig of water and a bite of rations in the middle of the battle, whenever an opportunity presented itself, but he still needed rest. Needed time, and time they wouldn’t allow him. Not for long. He regretted spending his three spare points then. Maybe three points in END could’ve seen him through to the end.
Probably not. The monsters seemed limitless in their number.
He winced as a fresh new cut was scored against his shoulder, before he stabbed the monster through the heart. By his side, Cheek was back in action. The little bow wasn’t fully healed yet, but it’d recovered enough to stand back and pepper the things with arrows.
Some of its shots, he’d noted, had an oversized effect on the foe, slowing and weakening them far more than the damage it’d dealt should’ve. It was how he knew that Enfeeble was working. He was happy. At least he’d solved that mystery before...
Before...
He frowned and continued the grisly work. Then he smiled. He didn’t know why, but for once, he was grateful. It was easier to fight with a smile than with tears. Don’t think. Just fight. Survive.
