Ezra’s heart pounded so hard it almost escaped his rib cage. The snarling and slobbering jaws of the beasts still seemed so real even though they lay dead in front of him. Steadying his grip on the sword, he fixed his gaze on his real opponent. It was the first time since the beginning of the battle that Ezra could get a good look at him.
The man, or maybe it was a woman; he couldn’t tell, was hooded in a cloak that flared out towards the edges. Boots, about knee high, covered the enemy's shins, and a belt with who knows what wrapped around a thin waist. Shadows obscured the person's face, but Ezra hoped they were panicking after Wilfred took out their dogs.
Yet their enemy stood firm. Wilfred raised his gun to take another shot as a high-pitched whistle screeched throughout the warehouse. Along with the sound, a turquoise light emanated from three circles at the other end of the room. Ezra shielded his eyes with a forearm and saw from the corner of his gaze Wilfred gritting his teeth.
“Bastards got an artifact,” Wilfred muttered as he readjusted his aim.
“The whistle?” Ezra guessed as he lowered his arm and saw three pale creatures standing in the night.
Their legs, all four of them, extended off a cylindrical body of droopy flesh. The front legs narrowed down to hooks of bone while the bottom of the back legs resembled hooves. Each creature's face was consumed by a massive mouth that dwarfed the dark eyes. Fangs lined the inside of their mouths as each creature let out a sound more terrifying than the whistle.
“Wall-walkers,” Wilfred said. “Creatures of the ring. You don’t often see them this far from the center of the abyss. Watch for the legs. They kick harder than an avalanche.”
Ezra nodded and stood firm, preparing for their advance. They reminded him of the beasts on the second layer as if they were living corpses. “Got it. But they're not the ones we really need to take out.”
Wilfred stared ahead, and Ezra understood what needed to be done next without any words passing between them. Another screech erupted across the room, and the creatures dashed towards them. They were fast. Much faster than the dogs. Leaping through shelves, nothing seemed to stop them. Metal rattled, and dirt flew into the air as one of the Wall-walkers knocked a shelf down. Quickly the whole room became a ruckus of collapsing beams and snapped brackets. Ezra coughed as dust rushed into his nostrils.
Wilfred disappeared, but Ezra closely watched the clouds of fine particles for any movement at all. It’s too thick. His eyes darted every which way and stung from the never-ending dust. Avoiding a deep breath, it was no longer an option; he calmed his mind and pictured the shelves that had been knocked down.
“Time-scale,” he whispered.
A sound like a vacuum sucked the dust back to the floor and the thick coating on the shelves. Ezra dodged as a rusted beam flew past his ear and reattached itself to the shelf right in front of him. Several pieces begrudgingly dragged themselves slowly as if a magnet held them to the floor. Ezra felt his power weakening like a dim candle about to be blown out. Even with my upgraded skill, I can’t fix everything in the room. Just choose one or two. The beasts were still in front of him, so he focused on the shelves within arm's reach.
With his intention focused, things speed up, and Ezra could finally take a breath unrestricted by dirty air. As his vision cleared, he felt a blow to his sword and staggered back. A Wall-walker reached out from the reassembled shelf. Its bony hook extended out as far as it could while trapped in a metal cage it thought it had destroyed. Struggling, the shelf buckled again and collapsed on top of the monster.
Congratulations, you killed Wall-walker [Lvl 14]
Yet Ezra’s victory was short-lived. Another Wall-walker emerged from the dust and lunged for his neck. The attack grazed his skin and then slid off the surface as if some invisible barrier was protecting him. My robustness points, he realized. I put two into my neck. The scratch stung, and he could already feel blood beading along the wound, but he knew it could be much worse.
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Sparks flew between them as the Wall-walker’s second attack rebounded off of Ezra’s sword. Before he could counterattack, another terrible sound echoed behind him. Ducking, the pale claw swiped the air above his head, leaving a gap in the cloudy air. A hoof slammed into the ground beside Ezra’s head, and the vibrations through the concrete sent fear shooting through his veins. Another slammed down, and he felt a swift breeze slice through his hair. While clenching his jaw, he swung as the tip of his sword scraped against bone. The blade squeaked in harsh tones, and panic filled his mind, begging for relief.
Bang! One of the Wall-walkers staggered back as pale liquid spilled from a hole in its body. Ezra couldn’t see Wilfred through the swirling dust but knew it must have been him. Taking the split second Wilfred afforded him Ezra lunged for a joint in the Wall-walker’s legs. Slicing it clean off, he continued the assault despite the screams filling the warehouse. For a moment the creature sounded like a crying child, but its black eyes couldn’t convince Ezra of anything else. Ezra put all his weight into the attack as he plunged the sword into the monster's open jaw.
Without a moment for reprieve, he spun to face the other monster, yet it was gone. Ragged, hair spilling in front of his eyes, Ezra searched the shadows. Where is it? Did the thing switch targets? Dust began to settle, and Ezra gazed across the warehouse. The person in the cloak wasn’t there either, but Wilfred stood, breathing heavily, with a gash across his arm.
He put a finger to his lips to silence Ezra as he pointed to an empty storage crate in the corner. The shelves creaked, and Ezra gazed up, realizing his mistake. A Wall-walker leapt from the highest racks onto Wilfred.
“Above you!” He reached out, but Wilfred was too far away. The man dodged the first slash, but that brought him against a wall. Another light glowed throughout the warehouse, and a ghastly screech followed. Ezra warily raised his sword. This isn’t going to stop until we kill the summoner.
The roof groaned, yet Ezra didn’t have time to look up before another Wall-walker was upon him. Bearing its claws, Ezra desperately parried each blow as he heard another shot ring out. His arms were getting weaker and weaker each time a hit thrust him out of a defensive stance. Jumping over rumble, he called, “Time-scale!”
The shelf formed in front of him, but this time the Wall-walker stopped until everything was reformed. It’s learning, or the summoner is. Ezra bit down on his lip as he searched for other options. He couldn’t keep doing this. Reaching into his backpack, Ezra pulled out a dagger and threw it at the creature. The steel blade met its mark and protruded from the Wall-walker’s flesh, but that didn’t stop its charge. Only made it angrier.
Darting between shelves Ezra noticed the roof sag by the supply crate. Any thought that was forming was drowned out as the Wall-walker crashed through another aisle of empty shelves. He stopped and stared it down. Running is pointless. I have to kill it, or I’ll never get to the summoner.
Taking a firm stance, he waited for the monster to come to him. As its fang-filled mouth filled his vision, he ducked and thrust the sword into a cylinder of flesh. The thing screamed so loud. Ezra wanted to cover his ears, but he had to hold on. Pushing harder, he felt the sword exit the top of the Wall-walker. Yet still it struggled, and Ezra tried withdrawing his sword. “Come on! Come on!” He tugged harder and harder, yet it was stuck. I can’t lose it!
First, it was quite like the opening of an old door, and then a segment of the roof crashed in with a roar that consumed everything else. Within seconds the Wall-walker turned to dust as Ezra heard a dull thud coming from the storage crate. Looking over at Wilfred, he expected the man to be gone, but there he was, covered in ash just like him. They both looked at the crate as a foot kicked down one of the flimsy walls.
Milo breathed a sigh of relief and beamed from ear to ear as he carried the metal box, now splattered with blood on one corner. “Almost thought I would break my ankles. You have no idea how big that drop is until you’re up there.”
Wilfred shook an expression of astonishment from his face and returned to a serious glare as he approached Milo. “Give me that before you damage it any further.” He snatched the box with surprising ease from Milo’s grasp.
Ezra’s legs trembled as he steadied himself on his sword. He saw one screen briefly flash in front of his face.
Assisted kill, Wall-walker [Lvl 14]
Yet many more appeared in front of Milo, who seemed to have forgotten the black box. Another item captured his attention. Between his fingers, he gazed at a whistle inlaid with intricate swirling patterns.