We watch each other across the field of slowly dying flowers, as the sky above drenches itself in blood-crimson.
And that can mean only one thing:
Outside…the army’s struck.
“Myra,” I breathe. “He – the General – he was-“
“Human,” she finished, never taking her eyes of her opponent. In this moment, though she stares straight backed and confident, almost regal, I can see the twitch that’s picking at the corners of her mouth. I don’t know if she’s scared, but I know that I feel a hell of a lot better having her with me here than facing this demon alone.
After all, I barely escaped alive last time…
Voices ring out from behind the sealed barrier. Voices screaming in agony, sounds of steel on splintering wood, sounds of gashes being cleaved into flesh. Sounds of the battle that must have just erupted as soon as Thorn followed Swiftrunner out.
“Such a shame,” Seneca sighs. “We won’t be playing together for long.”
Myra’s felt the same thing. Her breast heaves with the knowledge that her sisters are out there fighting, maybe dying, for their home.
But she doesn’t move back a single inch.
“Raziel,” she says. “You go left.”
Her sword burns with the power that she’s taught me to wield, and without another moment’s hesitation, we move.
[Blink]
I’m mere inches from the beast’s venom-soaked lips.
[Swallow Swipe]
She brings up the blade of her scythe arm to rebuke my attack, and I feel the sting of the counterattack that beats me away, only just managing to steady myself a few feet away from her gnashing, whirling blades.
She deflected me. Even though most of the creatures of the Darkseed crumble the very second I strike at them.
“Won’t be so easy for you this time, mongrel,” she seethes with a tone of total excitement. “The Lady has…upgraded me.”
A beam of light then erupts from her right flank as Myra charges her, sending a [Glittering Thrust] shooting towards the villainous she-devil that could’ve eviscerated Mithril itself.
Seneca takes it right in her chest – the blast cutting a hole clean through where her heart should be beating.
“Not bad, Myra,” she chuckles. “But not enough.”
She grabs the stunned Elf’s blade as she hacks and hews towards her, and I charge up my own thrust.
A blink – one second – and the ground opens up beneath me.
“Tsk, tsk, little dog.”
A hail of thorns jerk up from the dirt and pierce my paws, pinning me in place.
Damn it! I think through the intense pain radiating up my abdomen. Move!
[Blink]
DEACTIVATED
Skill cannot be used when under Status Effect
“Razie-!”
Myra’s shrill cry is cut off by two horizontal swipes from Seneca that pierce through her armor’s midriff and expose her abdomen.
“Did I teach you nothing?” the demon taunts. “A warrior must always protect themselves, first and foremost!”
Myra manages to block another incoming swing and dodge out of the way of another scythe as it comes down with impossible speed towards her exposed flesh. Another flash of light and she manages to cut through one of Seneca’s organic blades only for it to reattach itself and swing for her again.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“You never were determined enough,” she growls as she brings both her blades down on Myra’s sword and pushes the warrior to her knees. “
A [Glittering Thrust] won’t work. Not at this range. Precision isn’t exactly its strong point – I could hit Myra.
As I struggle against each wriggling thorn that penetrates deeper into my body, I bear my teeth and ready my lungs.
“Myra! Get down!”
Her eyes flash towards mine for the briefest second before Seneca flies at her with both her scythes again, and she drops to the ground.
Here goes nothing.
[Repulsive Bark]
ACTIVATED
The sound that emits from my throat is more a howl than a bark, but the effects the same – Seneca is lifted off her feet and thrown across our arena, coming to a stop at the broken tree that had borne the brunt of all my training sessions.
Myra looks up, her hands grasped firmly round the hilt of her sword which she’s embedded deep in the earth.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?”
A wail of fury is roared by Seneca in reply, and she comes flying for my neck, scythes elongated and homing in on my tiny body.
[Dig]
Her weapons meet nothing but thin air while my nose is slathered in the dirthole I burrow into the earth, and as she stammers, I move my snout skyward.
[Blink]
My sword flashes in my teeth. I can see her flail madly to react, meeting my blade mere inches from her face as I descend on her from above.
Far from being shocked, all the meeting of our blades has done is energize her more.
“So, you’ve learned some new things? HAH!” he spits at me, baring all the serrated edges of her virulent fangs. “Don’t you see, Lightborn? I’m blessed by the true master of this world.”
She lets her tongue strike out at me – hitting my right eye and drawing another scream of pain from my already punctured lungs. Even now I can feel her poison seeping into me again. Making me slow. Sluggish.
“You’ll fall just like your oafish friend,” she grins as she slams me into the ground and makes to deliver a final stroke with her taloned feet. “I wonder – will you scream for me, too?”
She’s answered by a scream, alright. The scream Myra makes as she charges shoulder-first into her. I see Seneca fall under Myra’s surprise attack, the latter driving her blade straight through the plantling’s torso.
Still, the smile never drops from the face of the assassin.
She grabs Myra’s blade, forcing it deeper into her own skin.
“My student, you disappoint me!”
I watch her summon the same spiked growths that bored into my legs, and, shaking off the delirium I feel running through my veins, focus on my attention on them.
[Swallow Swipe]
In an instance of pure, dazzling light, the vines fade away as soon as they rise, and Myra’s barbarian scream pierces the blood-red sky.
“I am. Not. Your. Student!”
I watch her tear through the cackling Seneca’s arm as the latter plunges her scythes across Myra’s face.
“Myra!”
Blood spills from her scarred forehead. She drops to the ground and twitches slightly as Seneca rises to kick her blade away.
“Tsk, tsk, such a waste.”
[Glittering Thrust]
Activated
…
Activated!
…
Activated?
I thrust out with my blade right at Seneca’s cackling face, managing to conjure nothing but more scornful laughs from her.
In the sight of my confusion, her smile widens to an impossible, ear-splitting grin.
“And they say a dog’s bark is worse than his bite. How does it feel to know the kiss of a true warrior – one chosen by Lady Gyko herself?”
I feel the spot where she nicked my eyeball twitch. I feel every muscle in my body go numb.
[Debuff received: Kiss of the Darkseed (CONCENTRATION)]
All [Core Skills]
“No...”
My eyes switch between the assassin’s smarmy face and Myra’s body as she struggles to rise.
[Blink]
DEACTIVATED
“Go on, ratling,” Seneca spits at me, taking one taunting step forward on the tips of her talons. “Try and take me down.”
[Repulsive Bark]
DEACTIVATED
C…combat skills…c’mon.
Myra slumps her shoulders, dragging her blade up while blood pours profusely down her forehead.
[Swallow Strike]
DEACTIVATED
[Debuff Received: Kiss of the Darkseed (CONCENTRATION)]
All [Weapon Arts] “NO!” I charge at her. Screw it. I don’t need these skills. I don’t need to be the Lightborn right now. My friend’s in danger, and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let you stand there and laugh at u- Blood. From my mouth. My…my blood. I look down in disbelief to see a patch of thorns pierce through my armor, their poisoned tips cutting through my armor into the softness of my underbelly. “Ah, ah, ahhh,” Seneca drones, shaking a finger in my direction. “I’ll deal with you in a second, my bungling hound. For now, I need to have a little one-to-one with my former apprentice.” “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” She catches Myra and slams her down into the grass, keeping her scythe hand clenched on her throat. Myra’s sword skids across the grass and is then consumed by another haze of snaking vines that sprout on the whims of our attacker. The world’s starting to fade… Come on…come on! I scream in my mind, wishing for nothing more than an invisible hand to slap me back into reality. COME ON! My paws barely move. All that hasn’t been restrained it seems is my mouth. But without my [Bark], that’s worth less than nothing. “M..Myra…” Seneca’s eyes glint in my direction while her grip tightens on Myra. “A familiar sight, isn’t it?” Seneca growls. She readies her free hand, the already blood-coated scythe blades shimmering in anticipation. “Now, be a good dog and watch another one of your ‘friends’ die.”