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Labyrinth of the Mad God [An Isekai LitRPG] (Book 2 Complete)
Chapter One Hundred Forty-One: Friendly Fire

Chapter One Hundred Forty-One: Friendly Fire

Before Nick could take two steps, he was stopped by Kenji’s hand on his arm. “You don’t want to do that my friend, or you’ll get caught in the blast.” For a moment, Nick struggled to free himself. But then the meaning of Kenji’s words penetrated his panic. “Devin’s flashfire pulse is our only area of effect attack that has an instant casting time. Once the swarm enters his range, he can hit them so fast that they won’t see it coming.”

Nick still wasn’t sure what was happening, although he could tell from Kenji’s words that this situation wasn’t the crucial mistake he had feared. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten about the other spell-wielders on their team. Specifically, Sarah, who was able to craft some manner of illusion. It all became clear ten seconds later, when the frostfury wasps converged upon Julie’s fleeing form; the elite soldier spearheading their formation.

Part of Nick was convinced that he was about to watch the unlucky woman meet the same grisly fate as her fallen friend. But that was not what happened.

What happened was that half a heartbeat before the soldier struck from behind, a hemisphere of orange flame erupted to engulf Julie’s position, forming a crackling dome of liquid blaze. The abrupt conflagration was so hot that Nick had to turn his head to shield his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the inferno continued to expand, overtaking the swarm before they could abort their dive.

When Nick whipped his gaze back around a few seconds later, all the wasps were ablaze except for a scout that had been flying in the back of the bunch. The burning beasts went streaking through the air in a desperate, but ultimately futile effort to flee the flashfire’s searing embrace. All the scouts, minus the insect that had escaped the periphery of the blast, came crashing to the arena floor like comets plummeting from the heavens.

Incredibly, the soldier was still airborne despite the flames wreathing it in a flickering mantle, consuming its wings from the outer edges in. As Nick watched the mesmerizing display, the soldier contorted and then stung itself, extinguishing the ravenous flames in a flowing tide of frost, saving its life in the process. Not sure about the physics involved in that one. There must be magic at play, and it must have resistance to its own venom.

When Nick took a closer look at the site of the blast, he understood what had happened. Because Julie was gone. In her place, Devin was unleashing his might upon the swarm. He used the flat of his massive two-handed axe to smash the wasps as they hit the ground, ensuring that they would not repeat the soldier’s flame-suppressing trick. When Nick glanced over his shoulder, Julie was lying unconscious at Sarah’s feet. Sarah must have cast two illusions. One to hide Julie’s body and one to alter Devin’s appearance. This entire setup was a ruse.

A visceral wave of relief went surging through Nick at the sight, along with respect for the ingenuity of his team. But it was far too soon to lower his guard. There was still one scout and the elite soldier to deal with. While it was clear that the beasts had lost the battle, the final pair of wasps was converging on Devin, trying to claim his life in retribution before the rest of the party could back him up. “We have to finish this now,” Kenji cried, clearly agreeing with Nick’s assessment. “Someone deal with the scout. Everyone else, focus on the soldier. Don’t let it sting again.”

“I’ll finish the scout,” Nick took off in a dead sprint, heading to where the smaller wasp was circling around to come at Devin’s flank. The lethal insect had been frightened by the flame and was hesitant to rush back in, or Nick would never have made it in time. It must be wary of getting caught by his ability again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his team stop to fire off a round of missiles before sprinting to Devin’s side, who was running back toward them with the soldier hot on his heels.

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The cacophony of battle was resounding all around him, but Nick didn’t get to watch the rest of their fight. He only had eyes for his chosen prey, the wasp scout with the singed wing.

Nick’s world narrowed, encompassing only his opponent and the approach he would follow. He shut out the roar of the crowd. The screeching commentary of the announcer. He pushed past his exhaustion. His hope. His fear. His feet slapped a rhythm against the stone below his boots, sprinting like mad to cut off the lesser beast before it could rejoin the soldier.

The killer wasp looked almost as tired as Nick felt. Or perhaps it was demoralized by the demise of the swarm. Its glossy blue body hovered low to the ground, and thanks to its injury, it could no longer maneuver with the agility it had displayed throughout the early stages of the battle. The soldier was too busy to give it orders, and as a result, the scout simply charged straight for him, trying to get past his blade to land a lethal sting.

Nick lashed out with his short sword time and time again, unable to catch his opponent with the two-foot blade. He missed the reach of his usual sword, which was stored in his pack, but he didn’t have time to swap weapons now. Regardless, the large blade was too unwieldy to fend off agile flyers, even with their diminished capacity.

For an eternity that could only have lasted a couple of minutes tops, he battled the scout in a direct exchange of blows, both combatants barely managing to avoid taking critical wounds in the process. But then his foe overextended itself, committing to a streaking lunge that Nick was able to evade at the last possible moment.

As the scout went buzzing past, he took aim and lashed out with his blade, carving a pair of wings off the insect’s back and transforming its streaking pass into a plummeting dive. But instead of trying to escape, the beast seemed to accept its fate. It used its remaining wings to divert its momentum, making a tight spiral straight into Nick’s chest in a kamikaze maneuver. Taken by surprise, he failed to leap out of the way in time. The wasp slammed into his chest half a heartbeat later, clamping onto his jacket with all six legs.

Its stinger probed his stomach, stabbing time and time again, trying to find the edge of his jacket. Nick knew that within seconds at most, he would feel its venomous barb plunge into his flesh, a tide of searing cold, and then nothing at all.

This was the first time that he’d been attacked by a beast who attached itself to his body, and it wasn’t a situation that he had trained to counter. The wasp was so close that he couldn’t stab it with his sword. He tried to slash instead, but in his haste, he wound up losing his grip. The weapon fell to the arena floor with a mournful clang as he desperately fumbled for one of the daggers sheathed at his hip.

The instant that Nick’s fingers closed around the hilt he drew the dagger, reversed his grip, and thrust it toward his chest, trusting his jacket to stop the tip from plunging into his flesh. He drove the blade into the wasp’s body with a strength born of unmitigated terror. The weapon slid into the joint where the beast’s head attached to its thorax, severing its head in a spray of ichor.

Just as he realized that he had won the fight, Nick felt a burning pain erupt along his left forearm, followed by an arctic chill that bit him all the way down to the bone. He looked down in horror to see blood-tinged ice spreading across his skin. Caught in the throes of death, his enemy had exacted its retribution.

Nick pushed past the pain and his rising panic, forcing his mind into action. He only had seconds to act before the frigid venom claimed his arm, and his life shortly after. He cried out to let the others know he was in trouble while hastily examining his wounded limb. What he saw offered a wan ray of hope in the raging storm of shit that had risen to engulf him. Instead of sporting a deep puncture like the stings that had claimed Kevin’s life, Nick’s arm now featured a rime-encrusted scratch that ran from his left wrist to the crook of his elbow.

It only grazed me and didn’t deliver a full dose of venom, he realized. That’s why my arm isn’t already frozen solid. I still have a chance if I can outlast the chilling effect. During the handful of seconds it took Nick to make this observation, his teeth had begun to chatter violently. He could no longer feel his afflicted appendage, starting from a point just below his shoulder.

Whatever he was going to do, he needed to do it fast, or Nick was going to lose his left arm if not his life in the bargain.