“You… actually managed to heal us,” the Everstead commander said.
He wasn’t alone. Four other soldiers stood as well, free from the fleshy pustules and writhing veins and what not. Free from the Flesh Plague, at least for now.
Thanks to Ray.
He’d had to go out a little far so that the roaming tentacles and fleshy tendrils from the gargantuan Spirespine didn’t interrupt him. It also helped that Gritty and Joaquin were busy distracting the thing.
“I shouldn’t have,” Ray said, eyeing them all with no small amount of disdain. “We had a deal, a plan. And you gave us up in the end. You double-crossed us and let your stupid leaders fool you into not only betraying me and my friends, but also in turning yourselves into sacrifices.”
His words left no room for doubt, hammering home their culpability in all that had occurred. Ray wasn’t in a merciful mood to sugarcoat things, even if it might have been helpful, because ultimately, he was looking for their cooperation. But the time for polite requests was gone. Now, they were going to do their part or suffer the consequences.
Ray pointed to the giant fleshy monster that had taken over the royal palace. “See that thing? That’s what your decision led to.”
It wasn’t the complete truth. Even if everything and everyone had turned against the Floor Lord, Ray was still pretty damn sure the Spirespine would have come out anyway. But these idiots didn’t need to know that.
“So now,” he continued. “Are you ready to correct your mistakes?”
They didn’t all look contrite. Ray hadn’t picked a random selection of the suffering soldiers. He had found the ones most suffering, the ones who Joaquin hadn’t tended to, and given them the blessing of his ability to use the Fleshcrafter Tower Nodes to fix the Flesh Plague. They were the ones who would appreciate it the most.
Still. As much as they looked equal parts relieved at their new state as they were horrified at the condition of their fellows and their ruler’s home, Ray couldn’t tell if they were ready to give it their all. Because that was what they would need right now.
“I’ll admit, I didn’t help you out of the goodness of my heart,” Ray said. “We need to take down the Spirespine and I can’t do that alone. But you, all of you, you’re devoted to your kingdom, aren’t you? Wouldn’t you do anything to serve and protect the Everstead?”
Slowly, their resolve grew. The horror and relief were still there, but the lack of contrition was changing to determination. Ray had been right. They might not believe in him, might not even be that thankful to him despite the fact that he was the one who had helped them.
But they still valued their country. That was why they had originally betrayed Ray’s plan. And that was why, right now, they would do whatever it took to free their comrades.
One of the soldiers stepped forward. “Tell us what’s your plan.”
Ray tried not to be testy, but he couldn’t help but say, “I did once, and look where that’s gotten us.”
The soldier had the grace to wince. “This time, there will be no betrayal. Trust me. I will give everything I can, my life included, if it means I can save my kingdom.”
“As will I,” said a second soldier.
In no time at all, the third, fourth, and fifth had all echoed the same sentiments.
Ray nodded at them all. “Alright, then. Listen up.”
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“You sure this will work?” Gritty asked.
Ray raised an eyebrow at her. “You got a better idea?”
“Sorry, I’m not the ideas gal.”
“Then I guess we’re stuck with me.” He grinned. “Lucky you.”
Joaquin and the Everstead soldiers had already spread out. They were doing well to keep the Spirespine distracted.
Every time one of the tendrils got close, they blasted it with one of their skills or attacked with a weapon. At times, it didn’t do much. The tendrils moved too fast, were too large, barely affected by the meagre damage the others could output.
But every single one was definitely felt by the Spirespine. The intensity with which it attacked increased every time it was struck, forcing the others to retreat before trying again.
The perfect distraction for Ray to enact his part as the lynchpin of the plan.
Wishing Gritty good luck, Ray created distance between himself and the gigantic monstrosity. He had no idea if this was going to work. But he had to try. Just like the soldiers of the Everstead, he was determined to give it his all.
Clutching True Mana shards in his hands, Ray began casting.
First, Lifeblood Soulform to create three flying Greater Windbane Maws around him. They floated around him, their slit-pupiled eyes focused on the Spirespine and their jaws flaming with black-red chaos.
Next, Ray cast Mottling Spiritguard. Not once, not twice, not even thrice. He kept on casting the same spell over and over and over again. It was only when he was so surrounded by Spiritguard orbs that his view was completely blocked off by a storm of revolving black-red spheres that he finally stopped.
Not just black and red ones. Ray had also called up his Viledrake tail, imbuing several of the orbs with Molten Mana to turn them glowing orange with Abstract Conversion and Origin Resonance.
With the amount of spells Ray had cast, he had needed to expend two thirds of all the True Mana shards he had left in store. He breathed in deep, ignoring the raw smell in the air.
This had better work.
Ray: I’m ready.
Gritty: Then go!
Activating Vengeful Plunder, Ray aimed one of the draconic maws on his arm—courtesy of Primal Spiritcraft—at just the right spot. Primordial Gauge in his eyes informed him where the Mana on the humongous Spirespine was thickest, indicating the spot where the Floor Lord most likely was using her Tower Nodes to supply that thing with energy.
That was where Ray had to target. That was where the blast from his draconic maw flew.
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A single strike from one chaotic laser was never going to be enough. Even if Ray considered himself strong, considered his True Mana spells to be along the lines of overpowered. Against a monster that was Tier 23 and level 88, there was no chance a single direct attack would leave any noticeable damage.
But Ray’s goal wasn’t to damage. Not now. Not at first. Not with just one lone lasering breath.
As soon as the breath from the maw was close enough, he used Spectral Step.
Soaring Wings was on his back, but of course, they weren’t going to keep him afloat for long. That was alright. Ray didn’t want to fly.
He was here to kill.
Having teleported close enough, all his attack-stance Spiritguard orbs rushed at the monstrous amalgamation of flesh before, beneath, and basically everywhere around him except for his back. They smashed in altogether, striking the Spirespine in an unending barrage.
Ray couldn’t even note the damage properly. He saw flesh rupturing, turning chaotic, only to be obliterated by a sphere of vaporizing lava.
What he was truly concerned with was the rise in his own powers. Every single orb that struck the Spirespine was far stronger than the last one. All thanks to Ray having used Vengeful Plunder to raise his stats with every blow he landed on his target.
He didn’t wait. He didn’t have to. Even if Ray had summoned a gazillion of the orbs before teleporting in, having them attack all at once meant he grew just as fast.
And the sheer number of orbs meant he grew a lot.
As soon as the storm of Spiritguard orbs had begun attacking, the Spirespine had cried out. It was wet, warbling roar coming from deep within, like it had covered up even if its own mouth with its all-encompassing flesh.
But its rage was evident. The tendrils that had been distracted by Ray’s allies so far all rushed towards him now.
Slow. Way too slow.
The Spiritguard orbs had already finished carving a massive hole near the top of the Spirespine. Steaming blood filled it, lava still digging deeper by burning and vaporising through the monster’s fleshy mass. Ray took a good, satisfied look at the devastation, then disappeared.
One of the Spiritguard orbs had flown past the location he had struck. Instead, he had sent it out to scour across the monster’s “head”.
Another Spectral Step had taken him out of the range of the incoming, enraged tendrils. More importantly, they had taken him out of the way of the lasers fired by the Greater Windbane Maws. Even as his constructs flew towards their target, they fired their fiery breaths, shooting them as compressed beams straight into the gigantic wound Ray had left.
The Spirespine screamed out even louder. Its tendrils were unable to do a single thing to protect it. Power burned through Ray. Livid energy roiled through him, his skin feeling like it would spontaneously combust.
It was the same for all his constructs. They were directly connected to his power. That meant, having raised all his stats tremendously with the Spiritguard storm, the laser breaths were unstoppable.
They carved through the air and smashed into the wound. The Spirespine’s tendrils were swept aside like nothing more than cobwebs.
The explosion was awestriking. Ray shook where he stood, his footing slick on the monster’s fleshy surface. His eyes were filled with black and red. This was his chaos. His overwhelming power. He laughed. This fucking Spirespine wasn’t standing a moment’s chance.
When it all finally ended, where bits of corrupted, burning flesh fell around him in a hellish rain, Ray stepped forward. His heart thudded. It wasn’t with anxiety or trepidation.
Oh no, he was simply eager to finally end this.
At the lip of the gigantic crater his powers had carved out on top of the Spirespine, Ray looked down. He grinned. There. Just as he had been aiming for. He had opened a direct path straight to the Floor Lord embedded within the Spirespine.
With no hesitation, Ray jumped down.
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Kredevel was being crushed.
He hadn’t seen what the Floor Lord had planned, though he couldn’t really be blamed for it. Even the king of the Everstead hadn’t known that his volatile ally would summon a gargantuan creature of flesh around them all.
The initial panic had faded. Being imprisoned inside a fleshy construct where every iota of open space was replaced with meat and blood and what else made up this monstrosity was a novel experience. Kredevel certainly had no frame of reference to comfort himself with. Yet, after panicking and feeling as though he was going to die… he had not.
It was more along the lines of being assimilated into this monster. The flesh that had appeared everywhere, that had joined together with every piece of him, was breaking him down.
That should have been frightening, but the feeling had simply been wrung out of Kredevel. It had taken him a few moments to realize that panicking and worrying was playing into the hands of his captor. He wasn’t suffocating, no matter how much his body tried to tell him that he was.
This was excellent, for now he had time to act. Channelling Growth Mana from within, Kredevel did his best to call up Projected Growth.
It was slow going. He barely made any progress, felt constantly as though he ought to be giving up. His powers simply… refused to work as they ought to. Maybe, with his last breath, he could curse the Floor Lord for causing all this.
Moments later, this changed rapidly. Everything began shaking. The monster he was trapped inside was rumbling and moving.
Something was going on outside.
The bubble of hope arising in Kredevel grew larger when his captor’s rumbles took on an obvious annoyed and pained tone. Someone was attacking the creature. He knew in all his heart clusters. There was a chance, however small, that Kredevel could make it out of this monster.
He focused on Projected Growht. More. More. He had to carve his way out. The desperation burned along every interstice and vein within him, across every patch of his skin.
Kredevel would be free.
He was pushing and shoving, Trying to make his way forward any way he could. He couldn’t fail, not when the assault outside was getting relentless and overwhelming. Not when—
Freedom. Kredevel heaved in huge lungfuls of air as a gigantic explosion and one more shove forced his head out into un-fleshed air. Unbelievable. Impossible. He had somehow actually made his out of the insides of the flesh monster.
Kredevel was about to laugh manically at his success, but then he nearly fell. His breath caught.
He was quite high up. Several hundreds of feet. It made sense. He had been overtaken by this flesh at the very top of the royal palace. Of course the freedom he attained would put him out in the exact same location.
But it wasn’t just the height that had made Kredevel freeze up. There was a crater nearby. A huge hole, weeping steaming blood and burning alive under the effects of lava that continued to eat away it. Tatters of burning meat were falling all around him, with the flesh everywhere mottling and twisting into untenable shapes everywhere.
Kredevel could only stare at the extent of the damage and destruction for a moment. Whoever or whatever had caused something this massive had to be powerful.
This power… the effects on the flesh… Kredevel looked around, but he found little in the bloody smoke.
That was when he spotted the most curious bit of it all. The Floor Lord was at the bottom of the crater in the burning, molten flesh.
She was embedded there like a corpse interred in the earth. Much of the flesh from the monstrosity was attached to parts of her like nerves. Her eyes were closed, like she really was dead, with only the top half of her body visible out of the monster all around her.
But Kredevel knew quite well she wasn’t dead.
He tried to talk. He tried to shout, to given vent to the building rage within him. But his voice wouldn’t work. Just as when he tried to talk, his throat clawed at him from the inside. He really wished he could have something to drink.
Good thing he didn’t need to talk. For a moment after Kredevel had emerged from the fleshy titan’s interior, Ray arrived.
His friend spared the briefest glance, full of relief, at him. Ray’s attention was mostly riveted to the Floor Lord. He descended into the fleshy murk, making his way through the smoke, through the blood spurting everywhere, his feet squelching as he landed near his target.
That was when the Floor Lord opened her eyes.
“You are no less a monster,” she said, her hateful eyes fixed on Ray.
Kredevel couldn’t see his friend’s expression from this angle, but the posture told him everything. It was rare to see Ray that cold, that angry, that bent on delivering nothing but death. The only other time he had seen Ray like that had been against that vile Denizen, Derrick Orden.
“We’ve talked more than enough,” Ray said. “I’ve only got one thing to say to you, Floor Lord. Will you, or will you not, end the Flesh Plague?”
The Floor Lord didn’t answer. Well, she did. But not verbally. Instead, a void formed around her—
And ended less than an instant later when Ray’s hand shot in as fast as a praying mantis. The draconic head around his hand, snapped its massive jaws. Kredevel saw the Floor Lord’s body twitch for just a second before it fell still. He found himself holding his breath, hardly able to believe what he had just witnessed.
Dead. The Floor Lord was finally dead.
Finally, as his mouth opened wide, Kredevel found his voice and screamed in triumph.