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Land of the Architects
Chapter 17: A Feroxi, an Irontail, and a Halvan Are In a Crumbling Fort…

Chapter 17: A Feroxi, an Irontail, and a Halvan Are In a Crumbling Fort…

I was on my own, surrounded by foes. By both sword and bow, the foul fiends fell before me. I held my ground bravely until backup arrived. Though not needed, their aid was still appreciated.

Feros watched Lyght disappear through the opening in the floor, then returned his attention to the Irontail. It was staring directly at him with fury in its crazed eyes, its desire to rip him apart plainly visible. With a monstrous roar, it leapt over the hole that led to the third floor and crashed down in front of Feros with a powerful stomp that set him slightly off-balance as the floor shook.

Spinning, it brought its large tail around in a right-to-left sweeping motion. Feros noticed the subtle change when the Irontail shifted its body before the attack, and ran forward to pounce onto the beast’s back. He successfully cleared the area before the tail passed by where he had been standing. Pivoting so that he faced the same direction as the Irontail, he reached down and raked its face with his front claws, then used its head as a springboard to flip himself across the room and put some distance between them.

While it was undeniably strong, it was clearly not very intelligent. Feros had dodged that same style of attack multiple times now, but it wasn’t used to its prey being so agile. Tail slams and headbutts usually got the job done just fine, and it couldn’t process why those attacks weren’t killing the target like usual. They had done the same song and dance multiple times now, Feros’s claws chipping away at its armored hide a little more each time. A shame Gargarel got knocked out—the couple of axe blows he had managed to land beforehand had proven extremely effective.

Didn’t Maris take a contract to go hunt one of these on her own? Damn.

Feros allowed himself a brief moment of distraction to wonder how Maris had fared on that job. If her Irontail put up as good of a fight as this one, he imagined she had quite the time with it. Her circuits didn’t activate any magic of her own, but she could still channel essence through runes to use other people’s magic. Then again, this Irontail was under Gargarel’s frenzying influence from the initial provocation during the assault on the base, so she didn’t have to deal with that at least.

Feros made a mental note about that. The frenzy hadn’t worn off despite Gargarel’s current unconsciousness. That, plus the length of time it had been since he had cast the spell as well... Seemed the newbie’s magic was definitely potent.

The Irontail shook its head, spattering blood on the stone like flecks of red paint and clearing its vision from the streams that had been trickling through its eyes. Charging forward with another roar, it jumped in the air again, but this time it attempted a different maneuver than it had earlier. Flipping forward, it brought its tail down in a powerful downward slam that broke away some of the stones in the floor, creating an almost grate-like appearance to provide a peek at the floor below.

As its tail impacted, it stayed where it was—the wide tip laid flat with the rest of the tail upright and supporting its body. Feros felt his face muscles twitch as a smile snuck through at the sight. The position made the Irontail look as though it were a dog doing a trick. This was certainly something the beast hadn’t yet tried in their battle.

Still in the strange stance, the Irontail struck out once—twice—thrice with a powerful trio of alternating kicks from its rugged legs. Feros danced side to side, dodging each of the blows. After the third kick failed to find purchase, the beast seemed to get agitated that the athletic maneuver hadn’t actually done it any good.

Making a grating sound that was more a grumble of discontent than it was the roar of a beast, it dragged its tail along the stone and brought it forward in an upward swing. Feros jumped backwards to dodge the strike but was pelted with a small artillery of stones that had been broken in the earlier impact, prompting him to shield his face with the vambraces on his forearms. Peering through the gap between his arms, he saw the Irontail moving closer in an attempt to follow up with a straight-on headbutt.

Feros crouched low and ducked under the headbutt attempt, then lurched forward between between the beast’s legs and under its belly as quickly as he was able in the awkward position. Once underneath the Irontail, he spun around so that he was in a half-lying, half-sitting position and planted his left foot into a rut in the floor. He dug his claws into the beast’s stomach above him and pressed hard on the purchase beneath his foot, propelling himself backward. A rain of viscera followed the path that his claws shredded, like a knife slicing open a waterskin, and spilled the contents through a leathery gash.

Pulling free from the beast’s skin, Feros moved his hands behind his head and pushed on the stone floor, bringing his legs into the air and evading with a handspring backwards and away from the screaming Irontail. He landed and observed the gruesome sight from a safe distance, the Irontail’s roars of pain and anger fading into low moans of fatigue before disappearing entirely into a dying thud as it fell to the floor among its own insides. Feros let out a deep sigh of relief.

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Lyght should be able to take care of Barsh. I’ll start getting the other two together. Oh, and that Halvan pipsqueak. Seemed he was on our side.

Feros hoisted Troy up, slinging him over his right shoulder like a farmer would a sack of potatoes. He proceeded downstairs to where he had briefly rendezvoused with Lyght and the Halvan earlier. Arriving at the room on the second floor, he entered and set Troy down in a sitting position along the left wall. The Halvan poked his head out from behind a box, letting out a brief squeal of panic before settling down and emerging entirely from his hiding place.

“B-blue Feroxi… Yes—friendly. Saw him earlier. Good.” He muttered to himself as he approached Feros.

“Let’s get you out of here.” Feros growled. He did try to make it a friendly, warm growl since he could tell the small man was scared. Most people didn’t seem to be able to tell the difference though, thinking he was always growling out of anger or impatience.

“You can tell us your story once Lyght is back and we’re finished with this mess.”

“O-oh! R-right! Yes sir. Thank you. Um. M-muh name is Wheatloaf by the way.”

Feros scoffed slightly in a mixture of humor and contempt. Halvans always had the strangest names. He personally found their tradition of naming their newborns after the first bit of food that they ate to be silly, though Lyght thought it was fun and would sometimes try to guess the story behind it.

“Wheatloaf Goodgoods, that is.” Wheatloaf continued with a small nod of his head in an attempt to show Feros—towering over him—respect.

Right. Feros thought with an introspective grunt. The food tradition was just for the first given name. The second given name was decided on later in life, based on a Halvan’s talents or what career they took up. Just as ridiculous, though. Based on the context, Feros could hazard a guess that the small man must have been either a peddler or some kind of shop owner before he ended up in Barsh’s clutches.

Didn’t Gargarel say he met a Halvan named Basil Beastfist at dinner the other night? That one actually sounds like it may have a story behind it that isn’t a complete waste of my time.

Feros flicked his eyes back and forth from Troy to Wheatloaf for a moment, trying to decide whether he could trust the small Halvan to guard Troy while he went to assist Lyght wherever he was. Lyght could obviously handle himself, but Feros didn’t care for standing around and waiting. He opened his mouth to speak, but a rumbling explosion reverberated throughout the fortress and interrupted him before he could do so. Not just one explosion, either—Feros could tell it was multiple, all occurring at once.

The structure didn’t collapse immediately, but it was not far from doing so. Pieces of the ceiling caved in nearby along with a large section of wall. Feros could hear crashing sounds from other parts of the fort that must have been closer to the blast origins. The floor beneath started to crack—a few spots already had broken free to fall down to the bottom floor.

“Not good! Out the window, now!” Feros roared as he slung Troy over his shoulder again.

“B-but that fall—” Wheatloaf began to retort.

“—won’t kill you, but being crushed by a mountain of rubble definitely will!”

“I-I ‘spose you’re right.”

Feros didn’t have time for this. Another section of wall fell free and the floor beneath them wouldn’t hold much longer.

“Just stick the landing!” He yelled, then grabbed Wheatloaf with his free claws by the collar of his shirt and flung him out the window. The ceiling above the window collapsed just after Wheatloaf passed through, blocking Feros from following suit.

Damn! Worthless glutton! He thought with frustration. The Halvan’s sheer existence at that moment was a severe inconvenience he really could have done without.

He leapt up to the third floor through the newly-made opening. A larger section of the wall that faced to the front had already crashed down below, giving Feros a place to jump through. The rest of the building continued to collapse around him as he weaved in and out of falling rubble until he reached the ledge. He jumped without taking time to think about it—there really wasn’t any other choice at this moment. He just hoped that Lyght was safe, wherever he was.

The ground was approaching fast. Feros braced himself for impact and contorted his body so that he would take the brunt of the force when landing, with Troy having Feros as a cushion of sorts. Crashing down onto his left shoulder, his breath escaped him and he felt his arm dislocate from the shoulder socket. Good—not a break, in any case. He could pop that back in at least.

Gasping as his breath returned to him, he sat up and looked around, trying to identify where Wheatloaf had landed amongst the pile of bodies from the earlier battle with the Irontail. He spotted the small figure rising groggily from a short distance away near one of the slain bandits. It seemed he had been lucky enough for Feros’s toss to put him at a landing where the corpse provided some cushion.

Feros stood and gritted his fangs as he braced himself to pop his shoulder back in place. With a quick but firm movement and a brief flash of pain, he had it back how it should be. He did a few slow windmill motions with the arm to be certain before he trotted over to where Gargarel was still lying against a boulder. The Gmaas had been knocked unconscious and had some rugged abrasions along his arms that were leaking blood, but was otherwise fine.

Turning back to the fort, Feros felt a pang of nervousness clawing at his chest. It was as if it were trying to grasp its cold fingers around his heart but couldn’t quite get a grip on it and kept slipping. The building’s collapse had begun to hasten due to the snowball effect of each piece of the structure crumbling and making it easier for the next to follow. It wouldn’t be much longer before the entire fort was rubble in totality. Feros continued to watch the storm of dust expand as the structure fell apart, unable to do more than hope Lyght would get out somehow.