Chapter 437 - Reign of the Crowned VI

The rooster’s realm cracked open as the one-legged wolves made their entrance. Though clearly identifiable as feral pack beasts, the invaders’ silhouettes bore little resemblance to those of their non-Langgbjern peers. It was not just their limb count that left them looking distorted, but their complete disrespect for the canine form.

They were devoid of bodies.

Each specimen had a head, a leg, and a few tails, but that was the full extent of their flesh. They had no torsos, no ribcages, no stomachs and no necks. There wasn’t a shoulder or pelvis between the whole pack and their singular legs grew out from their chins like beards. It seemed impossible for them to keep their balance. And yet, they stood confidently atop the three-meter limbs.

Height was their largest dimension by far. They stood at roughly half a meter long, though one could readily quadruple their length by accounting for all five of their tails.

The alpha stood from the rest of the pack on account of her larger size and her seven tails, but like all the others, she sported a series of marks that ran down the side of her skull. The blood-red streaks almost looked like eyes, perfectly resembling the highlights that appeared above their noses.

“Zottsgarb!” snarled the alpha. Her voice was deep, carrying itself with an almost hypnotic tone. “You cheating bastard! Today will be the day of your retribution!” The space behind her was completely distorted. The rooster’s flattened, hole-laden clearing was replaced by sandy desert. The golden brown hills seemed to go on for hundreds of kilometers; as far as magical throughput went, the wolf clearly held the advantage.

And yet, Zottsgarb, whose name Claire had only just learned, chuckled as he drew his blade. “Again? Foolish. Reeducation. Required.”

“Shut the hell up, you limp-dicked prick!”

The canine warriors leapt into battle with their queen’s spiteful roar. Compressing their legs, they launched into the sky in an almost frog-like manner whilst drawing their staves and wands with their tails. The rooster’s disciplines, likewise, reached for their bladed weapons and made for the sky above.

Sauropsids and canids met, wand against blade. A complete mess of a melee.

It didn’t make any sense.

Though they had clearly chosen weapons oriented towards true casters, there wasn’t a single wolf who used the amplifying tool for its intended purpose. Instead, they swung them. They swung and whipped and slashed and struck, using them as batons as they clashed against their winged opponents.

Claire didn’t have any time to revel in her confusion. One of the wolves on the other side of the battlefield spotted her standing still and immediately broke into a charge. Leading with its wand held in front of it, it became the canine equivalent of a javelin, the tip of a snarling, scarlet spear. The colour was rooted in a layer of rich mana, pure arcane energy meant to empower its blows.

Identical scenes played out all over the battlefield. It wasn’t just the invaders that made use of their magic. The birds and lizards unleashed their sealed powers and fought with a ferocity they had never once shown during their hunts or training.

Finally unbound, they attacked with enough force to carve their blades across the horizon. So powerful were the unleashed spells that the fighters very well might have toppled the mountains had they still been present. But they weren’t. They were stuck between two false realms, two non-existent planes of being projected by the crowned where they could go all out.

Blood and bodies descended from the sky as the battles were quickly decided.

Both sides were looking to kill, and the wolf that charged Claire was no exception.

A soft smile appeared on her lips.

It was the perfect scenario.

A chance to let loose and level, to make up for the experience she had forgone to study beneath the giant chicken.

Even fully armed, Claire only continued to wait. She stood stock still, pretending to be unaware of the incoming beast until it was a moment away from tearing into her guts. Only then did she meet its eyes and grab ahold of its weapon.

She drained its mana and interfered with its spell before the arcane light could burn her. The wolf gasped and tried to back away, but she transferred its momentum to the lazy lizard that appeared in her hand and rammed his face through the bottom of its jaw. It started screaming and flailing, but a twist of the Boris silenced its voice.

Log Entry 917389

You have slain a level 3781 Langgbjern Livian Spellblade (Awakened.)

This feat has earned you the following bonus rewards:

- 741 points of agility

- 345 points of dexterity

- 514 points of spirit

- 9 points of strength

- 3338 points of wisdom

Log Entry 917390

You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.

Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 794.

You have gained 444 ability points.

Claire frowned. The monster’s death had awarded a fair bit of experience. It was practically a full level for just the single kill. But at the same time, for something nearing four thousand, it almost seemed too little. But again, the lyrkress was given no time to think. Two more wolves rushed her as soon as the first collapsed, their maws still covered in feathers and scales.

The one that came from her right pushed to its top speed in a heartbeat and charged in a perfectly straight line. It tried to swerve out of the way when she extended Boris in its direction, but a deluge of vectors kept it perfectly on track. A few moments later, and it was run through, split in half on account of its own stupidity.

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Its partner was a little more cautious. It weaved between the ongoing battles as it stalked her. By using its massive nose, it kept a perfect handle on her location. It was so confident in its ability to sniff her out that it didn’t even try to keep its eyes upon her. And that was why she found it so easy to kill. She thrust her lizard forward, opening a portal at the very last second to find the livian’s face.

Though her blade landed on target, Claire found the third wolf to be surprisingly durable. Neither the stab to its throat nor the dozen to its jaw did much in the way of harm. Only by cutting deep into its skull with a much larger blade was she able to end it.

Finally granted a moment of peace and quiet, the lyrkress rose into the air and surveyed the battlefield. Though far more competent, she found that the rooster’s flock was being pushed back. And even more curious than that was the relative strength of their opponents. Though they had fewer tails, the wolves that they were against were far faster than the ones that Claire had engaged. It varied from specimen to specimen, but their magic seemed much tougher as well. At least from their auras, it seemed that some were over a hundred times as magical as their weaker peers.

It was only as she found Honkarg, the flamingo that had first introduced her to the rooster king, that she understood her folly.

He too had an easy time with his enemies. All four of the wolves that swarmed him were weak, pushovers just like the ones that had fallen to her blade. Or at least that was how they appeared until he cut off their tails.

There were no obvious physical changes, but their mana swelled with each rear limb removed, quintupling itself each time.

Finally understanding, she darted towards one of the free wolves nearby and sawed straight through its posterior. It didn’t seem like the best idea to take more than one tail at once. But that was exactly why she did it. Her blade sang. Whirring through the air, he claimed the livian’s tails, leaving all but the one that it required to wield its weapon.

The resulting nigh-tailless beast was infuriated. It roared and snarled, screaming canine profanities as it took up a stance with its weapon. Though one legged, it almost seemed like a fencer. And in fact, the mana that grew from the tip of its wand took on a rapier-like shape. Thin, narrow, and long, the blade twanged like a whip as its wielder snapped it into position.

There was something about it that almost seemed to remind her of Lia’s curious sword.

And that was precisely why she tugged on its leg as soon as it tried to kick off.

Though it started off tumbling, the wolf sprouted magical wings from its cheeks and quickly regained its balance. It seemed to understand that she was the source of its malaise. Its anger flared anew as it righted its path and bolstered its speed to even greater heights.

It started its attack from over a dozen meters away, its sword extending midswing into a massive whip of a blade. From the angle and the speed, the weapon looked like it would snap back around and strike her, regardless of how she blocked had she not robbed the magic that held it together. The spell fizzled out as she grabbed it, leaving its caster exposed.

Checkmate appeared to be on the table. But the empowered wolf reconstructed the blade in an instant whilst overpowering the vectors that Claire had used to steady its trajectory. Digging its foot into the ground, it delivered a slash straight to Claire’s neck. The sword traced a clean arc and met only the faintest hint of resistance.

The wolf knew from the sensation alone that it had torn through flesh.

And yet, when it completed its swing, it found the lyrkress unharmed.

There was only a faint trickle of red along the side of her neck. For a second, the livian spellblade was puzzled. There was no sense to be made. Its blade was covered in red. There was no way it could have missed.

It ignored the injury it received from the accompanying counter and immediately launched into another attack. Perhaps, it reasoned, its cut was too clean, and its opponent had immediately sealed the wound through some sort of regenerative ability.

For its second blow, it was more careful. After parrying an attack from its oddly-shaped opponent, it raised its weapon overhead and delivered a heavy, vertical strike. The one-legged dog didn’t care much for its opponent’s invisible counter. It knew that it would heal the moment it defeated its quarry.

It was sure that it cut straight through the enemy’s shoulder and took its arm straight off.

But again, it was the only one to suffer from the exchange.

If its eyes were any better at tracking its blade, it might have caught on, realised that a thin portal had appeared exactly where it struck—a portal that led straight to its exposed posterior.

Claire almost wanted to break into a fit of laughter. The wolf was so stupid that it didn’t even realise that it was striking itself. Still, she stayed on her guard. It was six times her speed. She only caught its attacks because she was able to read them. Her more traditional attempts at offence ended with her lizard immediately deflected. At least until she furthered the use of her portals.

Regardless of his form, she teleported her lizard straight into the wolf’s body midswing. It wasn’t yet an exact science. The monster’s movements grew wilder with each hit that landed. It randomly flung its body left and right, often changing it at the very last second just to throw off her blade.

And to some extent, it was successful. The random, unpredictable movements allowed it to dodge the odd attack. But while the rest all landed on target, the wolf appeared relatively undamaged. The wounds scattered all over its flesh were quick to close. It didn’t quite regenerate quickly enough to match a Cadrian warrior, but the damage it took only barely outpaced its healing. The predator’s eyes continued to shine with strength and determination even as Claire drilled her lizard straight into its brain.

The monster was calm, too calm. Claire couldn’t help but wonder if she had lobotomized it in just the right way to rob it of its sense of danger.

The theory lasted for all of three seconds, ending as the wolf’s magical aura changed from a bright red to a deep pickle green. All of a sudden, her portals began to fail. The ones she placed within its body refused to open their gates.

Her vectors were equally as ineffective. The ones applied directly to the wolf monster’s body were rejected, diminished to the point of having almost no effect. Evidently, the wolf had exchanged its wisdom for spirit.

The rest of its stats were unaffected. It was still just as swift and strong. Closing the distance in an instant, it launched a chain of attacks.

But Claire was unbothered. Her defence was practically identical. She dodged, swerved, and sidestepped while opening portals whenever the dog was able to surmount her defenses. Though its wand was coated in the same aura as its body, the assailant slipped through the dimensional cracks regardless and stabbed itself straight in the butt.

It opened its mouth wide, but it was the only one surprised.

Claire was well aware of the outcome. Sure, its overwhelming spirit stopped her magic in its tracks when she applied her effects to its body, but the connections themselves were physical in nature. She was simply joining two places in space, rewiring the way the coordinates connected. And while she had certainly placed the portal in her foes’ path, the wolf had slipped through on its own accord. Before it could retreat or even get over the shock, Claire snapped the portal closed and parted the tip of the creature’s tail from the leftover stump.

She opened another portal beneath its single foot when it stumbled backwards and shut it again right as the beast was about halfway through.

Both severed parts of its body tried to recover, but she grabbed ahold of them before they could meet and drained the wolf's health directly.

Log Entry 917397

You have slain a level 3499 Langgbjern Livian Spellblade (Awakened.)

Log Entry 917398

You have leveled up. Your health and mana have been partially restored.

Your racial class, Caldriess, has reached level 797.

Your titular class, Witch of the Seventh Tempest, has reached level 74.

You have gained 3332 ability points.

A small smile crossed the lyrkress’ lips as she noted the bolstered gains.

It turned out, her first impression had been perfectly on point.

The wolves were free experience.