Arthur had let things play out for a while to see what the ghoulish skinwalker would do. He was confident enough in his agility to save anyone if things got dangerous. With such potent magic at its disposal, Arthur was certain he completely dwarfed the creepy monster in terms of physicality. Magic-focused creatures tended to be weak in body. When the perverted monster looked like he was a second away from dropping his pants and rubbing one out, Arthur decided he’d waited long enough.
Had his magic not been affected by the time-zone, Arthur was sure he could have ended the fight there and then with a soul-spear strike to the skull. As things were, he'd done his level best to punch the skinwalker's head from his shoulders, and judging by the popping crack that echoed throughout the ship, he’d done quite well. Where the skinwalker's mouth had been was a mass of pulverised flesh and splintered bone. Arthur’s strength was his second-lowest stat, but when it was powered by 800 odd points of agility and delivered by a strike from a fist enhanced by over 2000 Draconic Vitality, well… the results were quite literally explosive.
The skinwalker, who Arthur dubbed Frankenstein, looked like a grenade had gone off in its mouth. Its jaw was hanging open like a broken door, attached to the rest of its face by a single thin strand of flesh. The monster's tongue hung out of its mouth, a limp piece of meat pierced with holes that hung down to its throat. The man’s formerly white shirt was now stained red, and thick viscous blood dripped down to the floor below.
The monster’s eyes were filled with a potent cocktail of emotions Arthur could hardly parse- shock, surprise, anger, a hint of fear. Recognition? If the skinwalker was in any pain, it didn’t show it. That was all the time Arthur got, a single split second to look the monster in the eyes, and then it was gone, teleported away just as suddenly as it had appeared. Time started flowing again, and he rushed over to Iris, who was heaving for breath. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and she was covered in a sheen of sweat like she’d just run a marathon. Arthur stood there awkwardly and rubbed her back as she bent over, coughing up a foul black substance that smelt like milk gone off. She retrieved a green pill from her storage bracelet and popped it into her mouth before finally standing back up, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve.
“His blade's poisoned. I’ve been training against them since I was three, and I would’ve died if I didn’t eat that medicinal pill. Make sure that thing doesn't touch you. Unless you're our residential healer,” she said, leaning against him, “I’m pretty sure you’d be fine if he stabbed you.” She was putting on a strong front, but her legs were jelly. Arthur was sure if he moved away, she’d drop to the floor.
“Thank you for the help,” she murmured. “Fighting another time mage is terrifying. He managed to lock down my skills from activating. That's the closest I’ve come to death in the past three years. Here I am, a fae princess. I’m supposed to be some badass warrior that you’d fall head over heels over,” she chuckled weakly. “My first crush and all I’ve managed to do is show you my bad side.” She was speaking quietly, but everyone was listening to their conversation, Lady Sleyca’s people all with varying levels of shock on their faces and Ayesha with a knowing smirk. Getting so close to death seemed to have loosened some of the discipline Iris usually conducted herself with, and she didn’t seem to care about her public image right now.
“And here I was thinking you’d forgotten about that little date of yours you’d asked me out on,” he teased.
“Oh, please,” she said, her skin flushing in embarrassment. “I tried to persuade Aish to ditch the planet the second I remembered.” That got a laugh out of Arthur. He couldn’t imagine the usually serious fae woman so flustered. Scratch that, I can totally picture it. Now that I think of it, that kind of absurd reaction oddly suits her.
“You wanted me to take you out to dinner, didn’t you?” Arthur asked. Iris nodded her head fast, her body tensing up against him. She seemed to have forgotten that she was leaning against him, and Arthur wasn’t going to be the one to remind her. The seer was breathing shallowly, and Arthur didn’t think it was all the poison's fault. She really wasn’t lying when she said this was her first crush, was she? Damn, she’s so precious. Arthur felt a surge of protectiveness in his heart. Whatever might come of their future relationship, Arthur did not want to hurt this young woman.
“I’ll do you one better,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Once we're done here, I’ll make you food myself, a signature Korean dish, passed down through my family for generations with my own unique twist. How about that?” Asking a girl out right before a fight that could decide the planet's fate probably wasn’t the best idea, but Arthur felt like it was the perfect time. It was cliché and probably raised a dozen death flags, but Arthur was feeling good about this. Maybe seeing her almost die had brought things into perspective a bit.
“I’d like that a lot,” Iris’ reply was so quiet that an unawakened Arthur wouldn’t have even been able to hear it. For a second, the mood was perfect, something straight out of a movie, but then Ayesha had to go and ruin it by clearing her throat loudly.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"I’m happy for you, Iris, I really am. Never thought you’d have it in you to finally get a date, but maybe we can save all the stroking up on him for when the planet’s not in imminent danger. I don’t think Arthur’s going to go anywhere if you get off him.”
Iris jumped away like she’d been burned, banging her head on his chin in the process. She looked at him like it was his fault, raising her hands to the top of her head protectively. Arthur nursed his chin, rubbing away the pain that had lasted less than half a second.
“That’s gonna bruise,” Iris muttered. “What the hell are you made of?”
“Catnip probably, judging from how you were all over him,” Ayesha quipped. Iris flushed again for the tenth time in the last minute and glared at her best friend.
“Shut up.” She took a deep breath, trying to centre herself. It seemed to have worked because when she next looked at them, she was all business.
“Have you dimensionally locked down the area?” she asked Farrah. The elf woman nodded her head.
“I did it straight after the time zone broke. He won't be teleporting into our midst so easily anymore, and his escape routes have been blocked off. The only way he can get out of my skill's reach is if his boat suddenly becomes twenty times faster than the speed it’s displayed so far. Either that or skinwalkers turn out to be excellent swimmers.”
Iris smiled. “That’s some good news at least.”
“Yeah, well, we can't all be trying to get laid,” Farrah muttered. Iris’s eyebrow twitched, but she chose to ignore the teasing remark.
“Still, I can’t believe we didn’t anticipate that he’d set his own traps for us. That time lock skill was too powerful to be anything but ritual magic. Now that it’s been used, we shouldn’t have to worry about something so powerful again, but don’t lower your guard, Arthur; you're the only one who was able to move. Were you able to identify him?”
Arthur nodded his head. “I used my ability, but this is the first time I’ve seen results like this,” he said, showing them the message he’d received.
Ghoulish Skinwalker, level 249- D#!ON?T L!#+00!!K A-™?E**
“That’s expected,” Ayesha said. “Monsters who do their best to blend in with civilization will have defences against identification skills. But at least we’ve got a level. He must be spending a fortune on ether stones to maintain his existence here. I’m just glad he’s not past level 250. Mimic-type monsters evolve more often than your regular kind. One more level, and we would’ve had to abort the mission.”
“I think we’re all ignoring the elephant in the room here,” Benjamin said, turning to stare at Arthur. “I’ve got more than a hundred levels on you. How is it that only you could move?”
“Ignore that, Arthur,” Iris answered for him. “Benjamin should know better than to go around asking about your secrets. How would you feel if I asked you to give us a rundown of your class?”
The man had the decency to look ashamed, but Arthur could tell the man had just asked what was on everyone's mind. A memory of Selena’s headless corpse came to him unbidden, and he shivered at the thought, coming to a decision. As far as secrets went, his incredible durability wasn’t an important one, and so many already knew about it.
“I’ve got a bunch of titles boosting my constitution,” Arthur said. "At least I used to before I evolved the stat. My class only built on those strengths,” Arthur continued, ignoring the pointed glare Ayesha directed at him. “As far as durability goes, I think I have you all beat by quite the margin, so please… no one try to play hero and take a blow meant for the fragile healer. I can handle it better than you.”
Benjamin looked sceptical for a second before deciding he was telling the truth. Ursula just nodded to herself- as if he’d confirmed something she’d suspected all along- and everyone else seemed to take it in their stride. “Now that we’ve cleared the air, how are we going to deal with Frankenstein?” Arthur asked.
“Who’s Frankenstein?” Bonak replied, confused.
“It’s what I’ve decided to call the Skinwalker. He was the real bastard in that story, not the poor sod he created.” Arthur answered. He could tell Bonak was dying to ask more questions, but Iris quickly cut in before he was forced to explain the popular earthen tale.
“Ambushing him with my rituals is probably out of the equation now that he’s ready for us. I never had much hope in that plan in the first place. Now we’re going to have to fight him out in the open. The most important thing for that is setting up the battlefield. I’m not much of a fan of combat over open water.”
“To deal with that, we’re going to use a landing pack from the Simulan Era of aircraft. They’ve been out of fashion for thousands of years, but they’re perfect for landing aircraft on water.” Iris explained. Bonak’s eyes lit up with glee at that, but it was clear that only he knew what they were. Iris quickly filled them in. The landing pack- or fake earth’s descent as it was properly translated into English- was a kind of bomb that when used in water created a kind of sedimentary rock that would last for up to six hours before dissolving. In that time, it would serve as an excellent place to make an emergency landing, an item that was perfect for a time when magical aircraft were not equipped for landing on water.
Things had changed now, but the item still saw use, usually as a means to host cheap parties over the ocean on overpopulated planets where space cost an arm and a leg. Today, however, it would create the perfect battlefield for them to deal with Frankenstein. Capture or execution, failure wasn’t an option. One way or the other, the Skinwalker's story would end today.