Jun deftly veered away from the skull shaped fireball—quick steps and acrobatic contortions winning him the day—careful to give the licking green tongues of necrotic flame a wide birth.
It only took a brief introduction to the wonders of necrosis and its myriad effects, to recognize that it, generally, made for a very bad time.
Rolling, skidding, then popping back to his feet, Jun kept up the repetitive mantra that’d saved his hide more than once during this interminable fight.
First comes fire…
Still around a hundred paces from the limp sack of bones that’d conjured the ball of flame, Jun didn’t go on the offensive immediately. He’d learned better than that in the small eternity they’d spent fighting this S Grade Monarch.
Instead, he lashed out blindly with a Splitting Chop, jerking himself to the side like his life depended on it. Which it did, as it just so happened.
Like clockwork, the disintegrating beam, a nearly invisible warbling on the air, speared through where his head had just been. The disintegrating beam, much like it sounded, was not something he wanted anywhere near his head, or any of his other extremities for that matter.
Then comes the beam…
It’s patterns of attack had almost become rote at this point, though it didn’t make its abilities any less effective. And he was conscious all the while that, at any point in time—were the Lich to, say, start taking them seriously for instance—the S Grade Rift Spawn could simply switch up its attacks, and that would pretty much mean the end for him.
And after the beam comes…
A lance of frost, several in fact, shot forward with a lazy gesture of its skeletal hand. More a barrage, a concentrated volley, than a singular attack, Jun met the wall of conjured frost arrows with fists wreathed in silver mist.
Punching forward just as the bite of arctic cold began nipping at his skin, the air in front of him simply imploded.
Folding in on itself before blasting out and away in every direction. The cloud of projectiles ricocheting wildly, when they weren’t dispersed into harmless gale force winds and cutting snow flurries outright.
Well, harmless when compared to the alternative at any rate.
Now!
Jun sprang forward, using every trick in his limited arsenal to eke out every last bit of speed from his body. Using splitting chops to haul himself forward—in between explosive silver steps and brief flares of Spearing Hand to cut down on wind resistance—he rapidly closed the hundred or so paces separating them.
Every unique burst of speed smoothly transitioning into the next as he swooped, spun, and veritably flew across the uneven ground. Now, of course their easy coordination hadn’t started out that way.
But thanks in large part to the Impenetrable Bastion and its many challenges, the four of them had been given ample time with which to practice their communication skills. As well as the perfect kind of incentive to make sure they got it right the first time.
He had seconds, maybe less, before the next chain in the rotation. A tiny, realistically minuscule, window in which to act. Though, when it was all you were given, you really had little choice but to make do.
With explosive steps Jun closed in on the Undying Lich where, even now, it reclined on its ivory throne. Ascending its dais in a single bound, he grimaced in anticipation, fist already reeled back—glistening like chrome and more than ready to strike.
A Frightening Gaze descended.
A presence shocking through him like ice injected straight into his veins. Jun froze. Every muscle seizing up. The tiny green suns housed in its orbital sockets beginning to grow larger, even as his surroundings steadily dimmed.
Ballooning to the size of actual stars in his ever-expanding view. Until they took up the full range of his vision, in its inflated totality.
Overwhelming.
Oppressive.
The dread aura they radiated like frostbitten fingers. Worming their way through him like life sucking tendrils of cold.
With a vigorous shake of his head, Jun quickly dispersed the spell. The Frightening Gaze, or so he’d dubbed it. It wasn’t really a technique, so much as it was this creature’s attempt to dominate his will.
Unfortunately for it, if there were two things for which he was never lacking, it was a stubborn streak a mile long, and a general disdain for authority.
Cutting and Cleaving grinned in aligned satisfaction, before a chrome fist came down hard on the creature’s invisible aegis.
BOOM!
The aegis shook, the tower shuddered, and an explosive sphere of force rippled out from them in waves. It was just too bad it didn’t appear to have done anything. Planting his feet on the apparent sphere of invulnerability, Jun leapt away from the reaching hand, before the Lich could release whatever dread spell or curse it could only deliver by touch.
He’d yet to be touched by that grasping hand, and he had no intention of finding out what it did the hard way.
Using an explosive leap to launch himself back a dozen paces, he landed, rolled, then swiftly retreated another hundred paces—mentally preparing himself to do the same thing all over again. It seemed hopeless, if one were to look at things objectively.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Throwing himself at the bony creature again and again, despite it not having worked the first time or any time since. But with Eleanor doing everything in her power to keep all three of the Malleable Undead Brutes preoccupied, he couldn’t, in good conscience, do anything less than his very best.
Even if it was ultimately doomed to fail-!
Blinking at the purple system screen that’d suddenly popped up to obscure his vision, he cursed. He could’ve kicked whoever thought now was the perfect time for a distraction. Blanching, Jun blindly threw himself to the side, just barely missing the green fireball as it roared past.
Without even a second to catch his bearings, he was rolling to the side just as a warbling disturbance ate a perfectly circular hole in the floor.
Not out of the woods yet, Jun used a chrome wreathed fist to punch at the air, knocking the volley of frost lances off their mark and propelling himself back in the same motion. Dancing back until he was truly out of range, only then did he read the treacherous notification.
*Ding!*
Congratulations!
You have formed a Triple Aspected Mantra.
Mantra: [Lancing Spear | Reaching Spear] (3rd Aspected)
ERROR: ASPECTS NOT FOUND; MANTRA UNALIGNED. STABILITY HAS BEEN LOST.
Grade: (Trash Quality)
Note: Due to the advent of your Ascendant Level Boon, this Mantra’s default grade has been raised.
[Lancing Spear | Reaching Spear] (Poor Quality) +2 resonance.
*Ding!*
Congratulations!
You have formed a Triple Aspected Mantra.
Mantra: [Field of Rose Petals] (3rd Tier)
ERROR: ASPECTS NOT FOUND; MANTRA UNALIGNED. STABILITY HAS BEEN LOST.
Grade: (Trash Quality)
Note: Due to the advent of your Ascendant Level Boon, this Mantra’s default grade has been raised.
[Field of Rose Petals] (Poor Quality) +2 resonance.
Jun stared at the set of objectively lackluster mantras in blank incomprehension. Wondering, why now, why here, why… these? Figuring there had to be a reason, he focused on the notifications, trying to will comprehension, and was surprised when a tool tip suddenly popped up. Pressing it with his mind, he watched in wonder as a pair of descriptions appeared just beneath each mantra.
Mantra: [Launching Spear | Reaching Spear]
Description: Hey. To whichever one of the alternative me’s ends up reading this, use this killer beam on whichever is the biggest, baddest threat currently on the board. Better hope it’s pretty slow on the uptake too, cause this thing’s a son of a bitch to charge up, and you aren’t moving it for shit once it really starts going. Packs one hell of a punch though. Best on immobile enemies, or ones too big for that to really matter. Helps to have someone at your back to cover you while using it. Hope this helps. Oh and, do me a favor? Don’t die.
Limited Time Uses: 3
Charge Time: 45 minutes
Ability Duration: 5 seconds
Ability Cooldown: 48 hours
Etheric Concessions: Stand Your Ground, Storm Threads the Needle
Mantra: [Field of Rose Petals]
Description: Me again. Now this one’s a real doozy. Not at all like what I’d been going for initially, but after testing it out and seeing it in action, it’s one of those, “you really need to see it to believe it,” type abilities. Although, just a heads up, it has this annoying habit of killing you when you use it the wrong way, so I wouldn’t risk it unless your exceedingly confident in your blade work. And even then, I’d still be extra careful. Just don’t miss, trip, or otherwise perform in any way that could even remotely be seen as, “undignified,” and you should be fine. Cast it on your friend over there. It takes a while, but the effect should last for about five full minutes without it needing another etheric infusion. Yours truly… well, you, I guess.
Limited Time Uses: 1000
Charge Time: 30 seconds
Ability Duration: 5 minutes
Ability Cooldown: 30 seconds
Etheric Concession: The Curse of Perfection
Jun fought the urge to reread the nonsensical message, instead doing as the “description” had said, and beginning to chant the peculiar mantra. Immediately, a crystalline rose bud coalesced in a swirling vortex of red aura, appearing barely an inch from the tip of his nose.
Across the room, Eleanor jerked in surprise as a ruby red glow likewise began creeping up her blade, though it should be noted that her shock didn’t appear to hamper her graceful evasions any. Dancing between the legs of the massive Brutes with enviable ease, she threw an inquisitive glance his way, even as she sidestepped a massive necrotic fist.
“A new ability of mine!” R. Jun shouted over the crashing din of titanic fists and stomping feet. “Don’t really know what it does, as of yet, but I apparently thought it was a good idea to gift it to you.”
A look of confusion scrunching up her face then.
“I’m told you should just carry on as you have been! Oh! But do be sure to notify us should you notice anything unusual. I’m very curious to see what all the mystery is about!”
Bringing his focus back to the floating flower bud, he watched, entranced, as it slowly began to blossom. A quick glance all it took to confirm a hunch. That the further it bloomed, the more completely Eleanor’s blade was sheathed in the red substance.
Seconds passed, the flowering process appeared halfway done, and Jun was truly beginning to sweat.
The infusion of aura far more taxing on his mind than he’d expected it to be. Even the largest, most involved sword cyclones hadn’t taken this much out of him. By now, the rose petals had almost reached full extension, and nearly all of her blade had been coated in a deep red, almost gel like substance. Thankfully, it didn’t appear to be impeding her blade work any.
Ah! That reminds me!
“Oh! And do try to be dignified in your swordsmanship. It’s quite possibly the only thing within that rambling diatribe I wholeheartedly agree with. You should aspire to be poised in all things, naturally. Elegance, after all, is next to godliness. And that goes doubly so for instances like this, where it may very well determine whether you live or die. Well… will determine, really. In fact, I would perform flawlessly from here on out, if I were you. Just to be safe.”
She was looking at him with open alarm by now, but before she could say anything, R. Jun finally finished the aura hungry infusion. With a small puff, the rose burst apart into a cloud of quickly dissolving petals. Meanwhile he nearly fell to his knees, the wind having been thoroughly knocked out of him. Across the chamber, the viscous gel that’d fully coated Eleanor’s blade flashed, but before Jun could catch even a glimpse of its effects, a tide of necrotic flesh hid her from view.
Clicking his tongue at the poor timing, he nevertheless turned back to his appointed task in all this.
Facing the Lich once more, Jun began to recite the convoluted words of his second new mantra. The Lich, as ever, reclined casually on its throne. Content to sit there and consume soul energy, as if its entire domain weren’t under attack. So be it then. If it was keen to give him a clean shot, who was he to refuse?