From the dozen girls Hanael had brought along, she had picked seven to stand in a wide half-circle around Maria. The distance they maintained was far enough from their Player Character, Agravain could guess they weren’t going to play a direct role in the battle. Though he didn’t fancy being on the receiving end of a barrage of fireballs or something similar were he to enter that half circle.
“I don’t know what they are up to, but Hanael might pull some devious tricks later,” Jophiel regarded them warily, “so I’m going to keep Rania here for now and watch how it develops.”
The angel’s voice sounded as though she was speaking next to his ear, yet in reality, she had retreated with Soraya and Rania to the edge of the ruins.
The master ring on Soraya’s hand worked as a transmitter, apparently. For all the good and bad of it, he was going to have the angel’s constant nagging for the duration of this match.
“That’s fine. But one thing,” Agravain thumbed the massive club on the ground, causing a small crater in the grass, “you said I could go ham, but is it really a good idea to ignore the other girls?”
“Well, you can bet they aren’t there to play cheerleaders. But no matter what their roles in this fight are, normal folk just can’t compare to a Player Character. You defeat her and the rest will naturally crumble. So focus all your attacks on her. Take the main piece down and it won’t matter a thing what Hanael has in store for the rest.”
“Very well,” he grumbled.
Totally wasn’t going back to bite him the ass or anything. But just going at it with everything he had was as good a plan as he could ask for.
Without further preamble, he broke into a charge.
Across the empty area he ran, club raising high for a strike.
There was a good distance between them, but nothing his long strides couldn’t cover in a matter of seconds.
Maria had not stirred up until that moment, nor had she done anything that might have hinted at the preparation of a trap. But as soon as the barbarian started moving, so did her hands spring into action, clearly having been waiting for just the moment.
Her weapons, called Variable Chains in her information, finally manifested.
Streaming like water from the sleeves of her black habit were two thin lines of silver. So thin they appeared almost immaterial, like twisted rays of light. And just as delicate they sparkled and stretched on and on from each of her hands, then rose in spiraling patterns into the air. Their movement defied gravity, rising and twisting as though with a life of their own. At a certain height they finally twisted downwards, from there tore through the air with a long sharp hiss, like a fierce pair of serpents burning through the air.
For all this fine display however, Maria did not seem to be in full control of their movement. Her unfamiliarity and inexperience showed through she struggled to control their lengths, seizing hard once the chains had extended at the very least six feet to either side. If the thin silver appeared almost immaterial, the girl’s whitening grips of her fingers betrayed their very real mass. Very subtly, her hands shifted, yet violently the chains swung, seemingly to follow the command coming directly from her mind rather than the awkward tugs of her small hands.
As a result of this struggle, Maria was finally able to direct both of the chains towards the charging barbarian. Her face grimaced with a combination of fright, apprehension, and mental concentration as their full lengths swung out. At the same time, the tips twisted and coiled, resolving into the shapes of spiraling hooks. Sharp enough to eat through his flesh like butter.
As they came, the barbarian swung the club like a batter, roaring thunder. Upon impact, they didn't bounce away, but bit into his weapons with the sharp hooks. Hard to know if they did so upon the girl’s command. For it worked to her detriment.
As they were caught at full length and pulled to the club’s wide motion, so was Maria yanked forward.
She cried in surprise, stumbling blindly to the ground.
The barbarian howled triumphantly. There was a foe for the taking. He could well finish this with the first blow.
But it never connected. The hooks stuck in his club dug themselves out of the solid metal and shot away. Backwards and away from him they flew this time, shooting past the girl and pulling her with them, in doing so saving her a hair’s breadth from the club coming down.
A small crater was made on the ground, leaving the ancient stone paving in an explosion of smashed pieces.
That could have been the girl’s face.
“Fight or flight, pick one!” he growled, and charged towards the girl again.
Her movements were that of an amateur, her reflexes even slower. By the time she had managed to sluggishly regain her balance, Agravain had eliminated half of the new distance.
Once more she attempted the acrobatic evasion with the flying chains, this time to the side.
The barbarian proved the quicker.
The massive club crashed against her side, hitting with terrible brutality. The force of the impact, wielded by a barbarian with boosted strength, made a joke of what the club’s former owner had inflicted on the maid Rania yesterday.
The maid would certainly have met her demise had she been on the receiving end of this blow. There would never have been such a heroic comeback.
No room for mercy here.
Jophiel had made it abundantly clear that a Player Character was not one to take lightly.
They were nothing like humans, or even genies.
Maria shrieked. Her skin-crawling cry mixed with the ghastly sounds of bones broken. There she crumbled to the ground, shaking and commencing a series of painful hacking coughs.
“Maria!” from the distance came the stricken shout of Ophelia.
She wasn’t the only one who let out such loud gasps, Agravain could even hear Soraya’s voice mixed in.
“Oh come on!” the annoyed barbarian roared, half turning to the expressive audience. “What did you expect? A gentle slapping contest?”
“Focus!” Jophiel’s voice blared in his head, “Something’s happening!”
Even as the barbarian whipped his head back to the girl, he cursed the distraction. He knew he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off such a dangerous opponent, but it galled him that Soraya had to witness this.
Agravain braced himself with the club across his body. He had expected a sneak attack, but his opponent had barely recovered enough to get on her feet yet. She was hugging her flank where she was hit, trying to crawl away. The peculiar thing that perhaps had prompted Jophiel’s caution was a green light enveloping her body. The very one that had mended Rania’s broken glasses before.
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That amulet was at work, but the speed of its healing hardly threatened to undo all the damage before he could get in another blow. One more and she wouldn’t be able to get up again.
But Jophiel meant something else. “The other girls!”
His eyes darted to the others at the edge of the ground, seven of them, half expecting them to be coming at him all at once. But not one had moved an inch since the beginning of the fight. Even then they stood rooted in place, eyes closed, caring even less for the brutality he had wrought on Maria than the idle audience.
Only one thing had changed.
Before each of them floated an almost transparent crystal, each half as large as their lithe body. Each was tinted with a different color.
Two blue, two green, one red, one white, and one gold.
“What now?” the barbarian growled, “Should I smash those things?”
“Erm--No!” the angel shouted, finally getting her thinking straight. “Focus on your task! The girl’s health is low, finish her and all of this will be over, no matter what tricks they’re going to pull later.”
“This smells like a goddamn trap,” he grunted.
“And may as well be one,” Jophiel said, “Rania, go smash the floating things!”
The maid at once sprang into action.
And a different voice rang in his head.
A new party member enters live combat on Player Character #5’s side.
Rania
Class: Bodyguard
Focus: Endurance, Dexterity
Trait: Journeyman Fighter, Adept Housekeeper, Genie, Honest, Near-sighted, Pugilist, Tenacious
Feats: Boss Brutalizer
Modifers: Gauntlets of Perseverance, Prevail Lv.9
Str 6 | En 9 | Dex 6 (-1) | Int 6 | Wis 6 | Cha 6 | Luck 6
Somehow he had doubts the maid would prove any great help.
Even her stats were vastly inferior to Maria's, let alone her loadout.
Not that he could be choosy.
And he had his own job to do.
By then Maria had steadied on her feet. The silver chains issued from her hands again, though they pulsated to the throbbing pain in her body.
There might have been a doubt at the beginning of the match, but now the difference between them was clear, at least in raw stats.
The barbarian’s entire frame was solid as a rock. His stroke was crude, without any subtlety to its motion, but all the mass and gravity to crush all in its path.
And the girl couldn’t even consistently outspeed him to get away.
He could tell from the girl’s eyes that she was perceiving all this, becoming ever more keenly aware thanks to the pain.
She feared.
One of the chains flew back, stabbed on the ground and pulled her along with it. She was trying to run away, without the will to continue the fight anymore.
Not deciding yet to chase after her, the barbarian spared a glance at Rania’s endeavor. To whatever opponent else this might have proved a fatal mistake, a needless lapse in concentration. But Maria was decidedly outmatched.
This time his lack of focus proved a fortunate decision.
As he looked, the maid had rushed straight for the nearest crystal, and was almost upon it, her gauntleted hand pulling back in preparation for throwing a punch. But even then, Maria’s chain, the one that had not done the duty of pulling her out of danger this time, shot for the girl. And unlike the previous times when the sharp hooks had come for the barbarian, this time blinding flashes of light accompanied it. And so flashing like a lightning bolt, it crashed and burned through the air, crackling as it went.
“Rania!” the barbarian managed to force out a warning.
The maid, ever on alert, caught his voice at once. She whipped her head about, in time to notice the bolt.
Barely in time to throw herself aside.
Where a fraction of a moment before her feet would have carried her, the blazing hook struck. The stone paving exploded into burning sparks. Blackened grass filled the air with a scorching scent.
From his position, the barbarian could not tell for certain if the maid was hit by the strike, but a portion of her breeches was blackened. Having darted away in so great a hurry, she was then sprawling on the floor. Most normal people would have caused themselves an injury with such a reckless throw.
One more cause for anxiety was the girl in habit behind the nearest distance. With Rania so vulnerable, that girl could easily step out to finish her.
But she did not budge. Her eyes still closed, heedless of the explosion just now, as she went on to move her mouth in silent prayers.
The hooks from the silver chains were swirling in the air again.
With a curse, the barbarian shot for Maria, trying to limit her window of opportunity.
The functions of the chains were now clear, for despite their potential for devastating magical attacks, they were no offensive tools, not even for defensive purposes.
The girl was using them to control the battlefield.
“Focus on keeping yourself alive for now!” the barbarian cried.
The maid was stubborn as ever. Having crawled up, she then darted for the nearest crystal again. “I can take care of myself! Worry about your task!”
Yet again the chains shot for her.
With a leap, Agravain positioned himself in his rush between Maria and the maid.
As soon as the chains shot past him like serpents lunging for prey, the barbarian swung his club overhead, catching the thin threads in the middle. Whirling the club with a mighty holler, he wound the chains around his weapon, then smashed the ground with it. Any convenient chains would have been snapped by the impact so violent the stone beneath burst apart, but these, thin like threads and smooth like water, were simply unfazed.
Maria let out a yelp unbidden and stumbled forward, again being pulled by her weapons.
Agravain reeled her in, using his club like a fishing rod with the most deadly lines possible. His free fist balled for a barehand strike.
By then, it seemed Rania had arrived at one of the crystals, for there followed a cracking sound and a grunt from the maid.
Unable to afford a glance in her direction, the barbarian focused on the task at hand.
She must be trying and failing to break the crystal. So it seemed that those things weren't as fragile as they appeared.
Even then, the hooks came alive again, by themselves they unwound from the club, and once one had freed itself to a sufficient length, it lunged, crackling like thunder.
In that split second, Agravain was presented with two choices: either let go of the club and evade the strike, or eat a direct hit.
He chose the latter.
The hook struck his shoulder, exploding fire and thunder, raining blood and scorched flesh.
As he endured the unbelievable pain, his other, flinging arm kept its steady trajectory.
Without the barbarian’s fierce and mad personality to face pain head-on, she cried and let go of her weapons to shield her face.
Agravain could feel bones and flesh shattered under his fist.
Reeling after the brutal strike, the girl fell over backward, shrieking like mad from the pain of broken bones.
The chains dropped lifelessly as soon as her hands had let them go.
The barbarian brought his club overhead, chains, hooks and all.
Gritting his teeth from the red-hot pain in his shoulder, and grimacing even at his own relentlessness, he sent the massive metal weapon downwards.
Tender flesh yielded easily to hard metal.
The fight was pretty much decided by then. His opponent had lost her weapons, and it seemed also her will to fight.
But he was not done.
Far off, there came the cry of a girl--Maria’s summoner, it seemed.
One could only imagine what she was feeling seeing her partner being subjected to such terrible violence.
Ophelia was pleading with him to stop.
Yet the victim herself had not yielded.
Now that was strange. The girl hadn’t looked like such a strong-willed individual.
Agravain stopped his blow in midair.
Even as he wondered if she was still conscious, the barbarian squatted down next to his opponent, putting his hand on the girl’s shoulder to turn her over.
He decided that if she was unconscious, he would be done. If not, a few light slaps should convince her to give up.
All he could see was her ashen face, pupils dilated from fear and pain.
After that, everything in his field of vision was covered in a green light.
And then, a blue light.