Chapter 8: Going Nowhere
~ Part 4: Hang Gliders…Who Knew, Right? ~
“♫ Somewhere ♩ over the rainbow…”
I’m falling.
“Way ♪ up high… ♩”
An understatement.
“♪ There’s a~ land…”
Getting closer much too fast to my liking.
“That I heard of ♪ once ♪ in a lullaby~ ♩”
Which is going to change to a funeral march if I don’t do something, pronto.
After the initial moment of panic—admittedly a natural response to the sudden loss of footing and subsequent rather abrupt decrease in altitude—the odd cool detachment I’ve been feeling since Dorothy’s breakdown settles back in, bringing along the phonograph and its old grainy tune now echoing again in my mind.
How absurd. I’m a lump of metal and flesh dropping towards a dark forest at a no doubt lethal speed, tossed around by violent blasts of wind, and in very probable danger of being struck by magical lightning…and all I can think of is a dreamy melody from the last century about dreams and rainbows.
There’s something definitely wrong with me. At least I should be screaming “Woooohoooo-hoo-hoo-hooo!!!” or something. Being this calm is odd, so unlike me. But then, it didn’t feel unnatural either. Why is that—
Right, the ground. Let’s prioritise. I’ll have all the time I want to psychoanalyse myself after not-dying. Something fun to look forwards to~
Thankfully, I’m always prepared for the unexpected. From my inventory, I retrieve my recently repaired hang-glider and quickly unfold its light wooden frame. The enchanted silk sail instantaneously spreads and fills with air…jerking up and almost escaping my grasp. “Whoops. Careful, dearie.”
Unfazed—mostly—and even a tad amused at being sent into a dizzying tailspin, I firmly latch onto the control bar and nimbly twist my body to tuck my feet inside the stirrups. There is just a slight inconvenient. Those stirrups are technically spare holds in care the main harness fails, so my current position is highly uncomfortable.
Hehehe…“highly” uncomfortable…*cough*
I don’t have much of a choice though, given the aforementioned harness is still set-up Dorothy-sized and thusly unusable. An oversight on my part, but sorry if I didn’t exactly expect to go skydiving inside a mountain.
The simple fact I have a glider at hand is already a small miracle in itself. Something as large as a hang-glider shouldn’t normally fit inside an inventory slot. Even the adventurer’s immaterial backpack has its limits. What makes it possible are my high levels of [Handicraft], [Woodworking], [Sewing], and [Tailoring], as well as a few subtle runes carved into the wooden frame of the aircraft. My glider is much more compact than it should be. More resistant too. And overall better.
Regrettably, even a homemade artefact of this quality isn’t omnipotent. My precious Wing-sama 2.0 doesn’t really suffice at stopping six feet seven inches of free-falling muscles clad in thick silver plates. Especially when deployed halfway to the ground.
Nothing to worry about though. I have everything. under. control.
“♫ Somewhere ♩ over the rainbow ♪ skies ♩ are ♩ blue~ ♩”
More like dark and cloudy. But, hey, I don’t judge. To each their own.
The canopy below is rushing up to embrace me in a brutal and deadly hug. Rapidly considering my options, I scan the sea of trees. There! A short distance to my left, I spot a large enough opening in the cover of leaves. Now everything is a question of timing.
“And the dreams ♫ that you dare to dream ♫ really do ♩ come ♩ true~. ♩”
Let’s test that theory, shall we? I dream of not dying a gruesome death as slop.
Timing, is it?
…
Waaait…
…
Waaaaaait…
…
Waaaaaaaa—Now!
“With my word, bend oh sky. Carry me, make me fly. [Soaring Drift]”
Obeying my incantation, the roaring gusts of wind until now slapping me abruptly warp and twirl unnaturally to support and slow me down. Dismally however, the treetops are now far too close and the spell far too weak for me to hope regain complete control of the freefall before crashing. Good thing I ain’t planning to.
Nothing to worry about. I have everything. under. control.
With a jerk, I pull the base bar and swoop down on the gap I just spotted, using the weak wind spell to force a gentle curve to my drop and adjust my trajectory. Grabbing a flapping leather lash, I also reduce the wingspan to fit in-between the branches. A manoeuvre that also causes a…sudden, dangerous and unexpected acceleration. Right.
Uh oh. Not good. You can worry now.
Too late for regrets tough. I pierce through the foliage at breakneck speed, and am immediately forced into a succession of hazardous aerial acrobatics to avoid colliding with branches the size of a human torso. Inside this nightmarish maze of leaves, I can hear countless twigs whip at my armour. Idly I feel grateful that my helmet hasn’t been ripped off by the wind. Head wounds bleed horribly, and reduced visibility is something I really could do without right now. Not to mention that helmet is pretty valuable, and replacing it would be a pain.
And speaking of pain…
*CRACK*
I fail to fully evade a mid-sized branch and a sinister *CRACK* resounds. The intense pain that shoots through my left leg readily informs me that, in this brief but intense confrontation, the tree emerged victorious. I dismiss the throbbing and spiral around another obstacle. Now would be a good time for a “Woooohoooo-hoo-hoo-hooo!!!” but I just don’t feel like it.
Pain, you know?
Eventually, I emerge under the crown of the trees. I start circling around a trunk so huge, five grown men holding hands probably wouldn’t suffice to surrounding it. I clinically take note of the damage my body has suffered—the probably broken leg being the worst of it—and check the state of my artificial wing…which apparently isn’t going to hold much longer.
And I’d just repaired it too. Saddening.
I once again survey my surroundings.
Under the thick canopy, the darkness is so complete I feel like I’m underground. Actually not such a far-fetched hypothesis, now that I think of it. The clouds prevent completely me from seeing the “sky” above. For all I know, this place may just be one stupidly large cave.
The only real source of light comes from the glowing wall, and unfortunately my dive has taken me too far away from it for the glow to filter through the dense vegetation. I can see a few bioluminescent mosses here and there, but not nearly enough to see clearly.
Nevertheless, my eyes still catch the outlines of absurdly tall trees. They support the leafy vault like the pillars of an inconceivable organic cathedral, a vegetal monument raised by some megalomaniac elven giants. The ground below is covered with overgrown bramble bushes and other unfriendly-looking humongous ferns of sorts. Even with the shallow visibility, I notice some of those ferns look abnormally lively for mere plants. Charming.
I eventually spot a possible landing location a dozen yards away from my current position. My altitude is already rapidly decreasing, so I just incline my mistreated wing to drift in that direction.
Problem is, ten impressive [Spectral Wolves] lay napping on my parking spot.
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“Hehehehehe…”
Problem?
What problem?
It takes me a couple seconds to realise the creepy laughter echoing around me is, in fact, coming out of my own mouth.
…
……
………
Oh, well. Laughing a little is alright. Nobody will ever hear me say being happy is bad. So I decide not to think too deeply about it. Adding a few whistled notes to the party, I disengage my feet from the stirrups and closed the frame behind my back.
And drop like a stone.
Closing your glider in mid-air will do that to you.
Though, by now I’m only about thirty feet above ground, and I still have one unbroken leg, which is plenty. Nothing to perilous all in all. Moreover, I’ve brewed myself a new stock of mana and health potions during the past week, and the old geezer has provided me with some more before we left his cabin. A parting gift from Martha, he said. Isn’t nice of her? I just hope those potions won’t kill me faster than the wounds they are supposed to heal.
With a chuckle, I prepare for the impending landing impact. “I wear on me my Lord Sun’s blaze. Let my touch burn the night I graze. [Sunlight Coat]” I keep my voice a whisper as not to attract the attention of the canine squatters underneath.
Not that they’ll remain oblivious to my presence much longer anyway.
Ten little wolfies left. To amuse myself, I begin a countdown. Just then, I reach the ground.
*BANG-SQUIRSHTK*
If I had to guess, the first of the ten canines to die wasn’t expecting the nearly four hundred pounds of knight in literally-shining armour that slammed foot-first on its head…err…in is head to be exact. I wouldn’t have expected it either. Rains of knights just aren’t common in this season.
As it is, the cranium of the “predator” was brutally squashed in a gory explosion of black bone shards, splintered red fangs, splattered greyish brain matter and purple gaseous blood. Quite an original colour scheme. I shiver as the crackling sensation of breaking bones under the sole of my boot runs up my good leg and propagates through my spine, sending tickles of pleasure to my brain. My grin widens even more.
Nine little wolfies left.
I break into humming again. “Someday ♫ I'll wish upon a star ♩”
Before any of the half-dozing creatures has the time to recover from the brutal and unforeseen death of their kin, I spin and crouch, in a gory squirt that gets another chuckle out of me. Transferring my weight onto my unhurt leg, I make a low horizontal sweep with the hang-glider I’m still holding. Blessed by the effect of [Sunlight Coat], the long set of wooden poles and wrapped cloth strikes the jaw of the closest wolf, fragmenting its muzzle with a combination brute strength and merciless cleansing magic.
Nine little wolfies left.
[Sunlight Coat] may not have been strictly necessary. Despite their name and ethereal appearance, the [Spectral Wolves] are no ghosts, but very alive monsters of flesh. They even aren’t that uncommon in other parts of the continent. However, they have the ability to phase to a semi-gaseous form and bypass armours, which makes them mildly annoying. The coating spell counteracts their immaterialness. But a good surprise attack would have probably sufficed if I just decided to blast the whole pack from above with a spell.
But I kind of felt like using a more…hands-on approach, you know?
Still, I can’t be too careless. I am determined to reach that castle in one try, so dying won’t do. I have a promise to a crying little girl to fulfil after all.
Meanwhile, the old song continues to loop inside my mind, and I can’t help but hum along. “And wake up ♪♫ where the clouds are far… ♪”
The dark shadowy monster, now jawless, drops to the ground and starts convulsing under the no-doubt maddening suffering I just inflected. Without finishing the agonising creature, I pull back my improvised weapon and swirl it to block the assault of two other fumy canines. Both are pushed back, staggering a little, but immediately they leap in attack again. Tenacious little fuckers.
A broad grin etched on my face, I strike the battle aircraft in the dirt and sweep my sun-coated arms across the air, catching both beasts in mid-air by their throats. The pointed metal fingertips of my gauntlets sink deeply into definitely tangible flesh. I take a breath of time to savour the feeling of squishy frailty under my grasp, then rip twin gaping fuming holes in the larynxes of the helpless canines, freeing a small torrent of purple blood.
Repressing a pleasant shudder, I throw the future corpses aside to agonise in company of their fellow pack member.
Seven little wolfies—Six little wolfies left.
“…behind ♫ me~ ♩”
This song is oddly accurate.
Another foe is jumping at my back. I narrowly dodge the attack with a sidestep to the right and, at the same time, abruptly raise my glowing metal-gloved left fist in a devastating uppercut to its stomach. With an orgasmic resounding crack, the backbone of the monster snaps and I nonchalantly add the corpse to the twitching and moaning pile. My tongue peeks out and give my upper lip a quick lick.
Five little wolfies left.
I reach for the glider still planted in the ground, and uproot my unconventional composite staff. I lean it on my shoulder, while slowly turning around to face the surviving group of [Spectral Wolves], minding to spare my broken leg. The five remaining monsters, easily four-to-five foot tall, glare at me threateningly—but honestly, McLeon the Fat has a more intimidating glare than those oversized, obviously scared puppies.
I amend that thought. Oversized scared puppies…that wouldn’t hesitate to rip my throat out if I turn my back on them. But then again, I’m not sure what would happen should I ever anger the mini-panther who squats my living rom.
The shivering wolves hesitate, probably trying to decide whether to launch a joint attack or strategically retreat. Smart of them. But I don’t feel like letting them choose the latter. The memory of soft squishy flesh ripping under my fingers is still too hot in my mind, and the fuming blood staining my gauntlets serves as constant reminder of that elating sensation.
I give my upper lip another expectant lick and quickly extend my triangular “weapon”, holding it by the tip. The two edges of the frame scissor around the neck of the nearest creature, like a furry, smoky grain of rice held with holy chopsticks, yelping pitifully in distress.
“Where troubles ♫ melt like ♪ lemon drops ♫” The verses continue to flow out of my mouth in singsong. And it seems the melting also applies to [Spectral Wolves] in contact with sun magic apparently. How intriguing.
I yank my sizzling, whining prey back to me, then crouch and whirl, squatting on my right foot and performing a sit spin. When I eventually let go, both the glider and the severely—and probably nauseous—wolf are propelled back towards the outliving quartet.
“Away above ♩ the chimney ♫ tops” Hehehe. This is fun.
Four little wolfies—Ah? Three little wolfies?
Unexpectedly, one amongst the lot got impaled by the splintered edge of my misused aircraft and died on the spot. How lucky of it. I was been planning on having a little more fun~ now that the numbers were less in my disfavour. But now my mood is spoilt. Bad wolfy. Dying like that is cheating.
Humph. I don’t have time for this anyway. I have a valley to cross—a monster-infested valley. And though I technically have no time constraint for the quest, school is sort of looming in the distance. Two days, so eight days IGT, are about all I have left before I needed to start skipping classes. And as much as I don’t care, someone is bound to care if I skip too much. And that someone would tell his sister. Who would then come to my home and literally kick my ass down the stairs and all the way to school.
Disregarding the wolves, I scratch the side of my helmet and sigh.
How did our relationship evolve from childhood friends, to briefly dating, to abusive siblinghood? I have no clue. It pisses me off sometimes. But I can’t bring myself to take out my annoyance on either Yasmin or Daniel. They’re family, and you don’t hurt family. Not seriously or on purpose anyway.
Too bad though, because I really, really want to hurt something right now.
…
……
………Oh, right.
I refocus on the last three canines. They take a step backwards. Then I smile, and they take two. Hey! That’s a fun game.
They look ready to bolt. It’s hilarious. But while I find this situation immensely amusing, I can’t allow them to flee. Nonono. It simply won’t do. As a Solar Knight, I ain’t exactly praised for my astonishing speed. When it comes down to it, I’m still a heavy armoured class, a powerhouse with relatively little mobility. Chasing wolves isn’t part of my skillset. I know I’ve said I want to get to Bluerose quickly, but I can’t bring myself to let my preys escape so easily. Especially not after playing the goodie-good onii-chan for so long.
With slow, deliberate movements, never breaking eye-contact with the wolves, I prowl towards the heap of their three moribund comrades. I grin widely, baring my teeth in a gesture that has never been friendly in canine society, before resting my foot on the head of one of the dying creatures. Gradually, tauntingly, I apply pressure on the skull. My broken leg screamed at me in protest, but I ignore it, savouring the moment.
Anger is seething in the surviving trio’s eyes. Of course it is. Wolves are prideful community-oriented animals—at least as far as I know—thus humiliating one of their defenceless pack mates is bound to get a rise out of them and get them to react. React in a stupid way hopefully.
A small crack echoes from under my foot and I repress a pleasant shudder. One of the three monsters begins to snarl. I have to swallow back an uncontrolled laughter. A tiny voice at the back of my mind whispers worriedly that something’s not right with me, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck at the moment.
Instead I wriggle my eyebrows and chirp mockingly. “That’s where you’ll ♪ fi~ind ♪ me~ ♩” This verse of the song again oddly makes sort of a point.
Oh, that pushes them over the edge for some reason. Hahaha. I don’t sing that badly, do I? I put on a fake pout, but can’t stop it from turning back into a toothy smirk when, finally enraged, the roaring creatures carelessly jump at my throat.
My glider is still on the ground, broken and impaled in a wolf, behind the beasts and out of reach. My little hands trick won’t work this time either. After all, I only have two hands, and there are three wolves. Do the math. An unfortunate equation indeed.
Although, that result is without accounting for the last variable. With a whistle, I calmly reach for my back.
*swish* *thud-thud*
A blink of an eye later, two smoking grisly halves of a wolf tumble down to the blood-splattered dirt, neatly severed by the huge glowing Zweihänder I have finally unsheathed. Two little wolfies left. Without slowing down, I make the blade draw a vertical U-turn, beheading a second ugly oversized pup. One little wolfie left. Already? Aw~
The last crazed beast is upon me, too close to intercept with my sword, so I let go of the handle of the sword with one hand, and shove it inside the opened maw rushing at me. Resisting the urge to laugh, I conclude the incantation I’ve been mumbling since cleaving that wolf in twain.
“…or rejoin Nothingness. [Solar Flare].” Goodbye little wolfie.
Inferno explodes from within the monster, engulfing me along with it and dissolving the darkness around. Blinded for an instant, I close my eyes. Again, I’m immune to fire, but not against all its side effects, like light. I can also still feel the caress of the stone-melting heat over my skin and can’t repress a moan under the scalding rush.
When I finally open my eyes again, I briefly scan the carnage surrounding me, skimming over the scattered bones, the blood splatters, the twisted limbs and the still twitching dying bodies. I raise my gaze to the distant canopy, far above, and let out a deep contented sigh.
“Aaahhhhh~ That felt good…”
* * *
Later, after finishing the wolves off—no use wasting XP—I cast several spells to increase my speed and stealth, and take off running into the dark woods, quietly humming the same old pleasant tune.
“Somewhere~ ♩ over the rainbow…”
* * * * *