Ebonheim maneuvered through the water, propelled by powerful strokes of her legs. Her Divine Aura glowed like a star in the darkness, illuminating her path as she swam deeper into the depths of the lake.
The Dweller swept through the water before her, its long serpentine body writhing and undulating as it twisted and dove. It moved with a fluid grace, its limbs rippling through the water as its tentacles trailed behind.
As Ebonheim held her bow, a stream of delicate golden light poured from her hand, filling the space between her fingers and the weapon with an iridescent glow. She positioned her fingers over the bowstring and, with a practiced motion, plucked a sparkling arrow of pure light.
[Enchanted Essence Bolt (Ascended, Rank MAX)]
[Effect] Shoots an arrow made of Essence that deals 64 divine damage to the target. Bypasses 12 Damage Reduction. Deals double damage against dark and corrupted creatures.
[Specialization Bonus] You can augment an arrow with another Divine Ability, combining both effects if applicable. You can also change the damage type using Elemental Admixture.
[Range] 150 meters
[Target] Single target
[Duration] -
[Cost] -
[Requirement] Ebon Bow equipped
She notched the divine arrow, took aim, and let fly.
The bolt soared through the water, leaving a trail of shimmering motes in its wake, and struck the Dweller's thick hide, burrowing into its flesh. It keened, letting out a high-pitched cry that echoed through the murky depths. Its form warped and contorted, growing larger and bulkier, as spikes emerged from its armored plates, jutting outward.
The creature's speed increased as it launched itself toward her, its mouth open wide.
Ebonheim avoided its snapping jaws and ducked under the swinging swipes of its tentacles, sending another glowing arrow into its armored chest. The shot ricocheted off its heavy shell, leaving a shallow divot in the creature's carapace.
The Abyssal Dweller whirled about, lashing at her with its barbed appendages. Its tentacles struck with blinding speed, crashing into the water around Ebonheim and creating a froth of bubbles as they grazed her Divine Aura. Sparks of energy crackled through the water as the impacts sent ripples through her protective barrier.
Still, Ebonheim grimaced as she felt the force of the impact reverberate through her body.
She evaded the worst of the blows, but one tentacle caught her ankle, wrapping around her foot and holding her in place. With a tug, the Dweller dragged her through the water, pulling her within range of its claws and fangs.
As the Dweller reeled her in, Ebonheim focused on her Elemental Admixture, cycling through her options. With her free hand, she held out her palm, summoning a swirling blade of fire wrapped in a whirlwind. The flames cast a warm orange hue over the murky water, causing the shadows to dance and flicker.
She sliced through the tentacle holding her captive, severing the appendage in a single stroke. The flames from her blade cauterized the wound, sealing it, as the severed limb drifted away, vanishing into the gloom.
Ebonheim twirled the flaming blade, gathering momentum, and spun, unleashing a wave of fire and wind at the advancing Dweller. The roiling flames blasted against the creature's thick armored plate, charring and cracking the armor, before bursting into a cloud of steam.
The Dweller's jaws yawned wider, and its roar rumbled through the water as Ebonheim dove away, evading the spray of poisonous spines that erupted from the creature's mouth. The water seethed as the toxins mingled with the surrounding lake, polluting the pristine waters.
As the battle raged, the waters around the combatants swirled with energy, creating a maelstrom that threw up clouds of debris and sand. Ebonheim's Divine Aura burned like a sun, casting a golden glow over the murky depths. Her hair billowed around her face, whipped by the swirling eddies, as her eyes flashed with power.
Her fiery blade carved arcs of fire through the water as she slashed at the Dweller, her movements fluid and graceful. She twisted and flipped, evading the beast's savage swipes and lashes, her feet barely skimming the lake bottom as she danced around its flailing tentacles.
Meanwhile, the Dweller lurched and thrashed, its armored hide cracked and splintered, as Ebonheim's arrows lodged into its body. The beast's blood, tainted with black ichor, streamed from its wounds, staining the waters black as it poured out of the gaping holes in its flesh.
The lake floor rose and fell, torn up by the churning currents created by their clashing energies. Chunks of earth and rock ripped loose from the lakebed, disrupting the placid calm of the depths as the Abyssal Dweller's large form crashed into the muddy ground.
Its remaining tentacles lashed out wildly as the beast sought to right itself, but Ebonheim pressed her assault, raining down a volley of divine arrows upon the beleaguered creature. Each arrow pierced into the Dweller's battered armor, tearing new holes in its shell.
The lakebed shook as the enraged beast reared back and smashed its carapace-clad head into Ebonheim, catching her by surprise and sending her crashing into the lake floor, hurling a torrent of sediment into the air. The dirt and dust obscured the view, enveloping Ebonheim in a veil of brown fog.
Blinking rapidly, she spat out a mouthful of foul-tasting mud, clearing her vision enough to see the massive shape of the Abyssal Dweller looming over her, its shadowy coils stretching out towards her.
Ebonheim lashed out, slicing through the coils with her fiery blade before they could ensnare her. She kicked herself away, pushing off from the lakebed, and propelled herself out of range of the Dweller's snapping jaws.
She kicked her legs, pushing herself higher, and fired another gleaming arrow at the beast.
This one punched through the creature's shell, embedding deep in the vulnerable flesh beneath. The Dweller spasmed as golden light flared within, lighting it from the inside, and the fissure carved by the divine arrow widened, causing the armored plates to shear and crack.
Ebonheim nocked another arrow, firing a series of shots at the crack in the creature's armor.
The shafts pierced through the weakened seam, boring deeper into the soft tissue within. The Abyssal Dweller shuddered and stilled, convulsing as the arrows exploded within its body, disintegrating the monster into a cloud of iridescent mist.
Ebonheim paused, waiting to make sure that the creature was truly dead.
When the smoke cleared, nothing remained of the Dweller save a handful of black, tarry clumps sinking through the water. A handful of faint motes of light drifted toward Ebonheim, dissipating as they came in contact with her Divine Aura.
[You have acquired 175 Quintessence from the Abyssal Dweller]
Ebonheim nodded in satisfaction.
The tainted water around her began to purify, the sickly pallor retreating in a wave of clear, transparent blue.
With the threat eliminated, she turned back towards the surface, swimming upward at full speed. A sense of urgency consumed her as she pictured her friends fighting for their lives at the shoreline.
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She had to return to them.
Quickly.
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Ingrid leapt forward, her shield raised and sword poised, as the Morkhai lunged at her. She sidestepped its attack and countered with a sweeping strike of her blade, the runes etched on its edge glowing faintly in the darkness.
Her sword bit into the creature's shoulder, slicing through its shadowy flesh as the runes flared to life. She wrenched the weapon free and pivoted, turning her back to the beast and slamming her shield into its muzzle. The Morkhai snapped and snarled at her, its sharp teeth scraping against her shield as she knocked it back.
As the creature's attacks struck against her shield, the runes along its surface flashed in sequence. When all ten runes shimmered in a rainbow of colors, she felt the charges in her shield reaching its zenith—the stored energy from the Morkhai's blows pulsing like a heartbeat against her arm.
It was time. With the Morkhai momentarily recoiling, she seized the moment.
With a swift, practiced motion, Ingrid activated the transformation of her weapon.
She thrust her sword into the waiting sheath through the top of the shield, the metal sliding in with a satisfying hiss. Her fingers found the hidden trigger near the shield's handle, and with a click, the shield reacted.
The shield's embossed raven motif slid apart, each half spiraling outward with a series of clicks and whirs. The two halves unfurled like the wings of a predatory bird, revealing their true nature as the broad, curved blades of a formidable greataxe.
Simultaneously, the sword extended, its blade elongating and locking into place to form the central spine of the axe. The runes on the sword now aligned with those on the shield-blades, creating a dazzling array of light that danced along the weapon's length.
The fully transformed Skjaldmæreiðr hummed with energy as Ingrid swung the mighty axe in a wide arc.
The Morkhai, which had been charging her, froze in mid-stride. Its body warped and contorted, folding inward on itself as the force of the axe slammed into it.
Ripples of energy cascaded outward from the impact point, like the surface of a lake disturbed by a dropped stone. Ingrid planted her feet and leaned into the swing, the force of the blow channeling through her shield and into her body.
The runes on the axe blades flared brightly, pulsing with power as the Morkhai's form shattered into pieces, scattering around the campsite in a flurry of broken shadows.
Three of the runes on Ingrid's axe head faded, the energy stored within dissipating. But the stored charge on the rest of the runes still pulsed, waiting to be unleashed.
Urien stared wide-eyed at her new weapon. "How did you do that?" he asked. "Your weapon can change its form?"
Ingrid smiled as she tightened her grip on the greataxe, enjoying the weapon's new configuration.
"Yes, Skjaldmæreiðr is both axe and sword," Ingrid explained. "A weapon forged for both offense and defense."
Urien nodded approvingly, hefting his own warhammer. "A good design. I prefer a hammer, myself."
Ingrid adjusted her grip on the axe's haft and shifted into a defensive stance, scanning for more attackers. "And you wield yours well. Our enemies aren't done with us yet. Ready yourself."
Urien hefted his weapon, shifting his weight. "If I don't manage to kill one after all this, I'm going to feel awful useless."
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"Show-off!" Thorsten yelled across the battlefield as he plunged his axe into the shadowy flesh of a Morkhai.
The sheer spectacle of Ingrid's prized weapon was always a sight to behold. Compared to his greataxe Galdraslag, her Skjaldmæreiðr was the pinnacle of Hrafnsteinnian craftsmanship, and he begrudgingly admitted to himself that he envied such a beautiful weapon.
But his envy would have to wait for a later date.
He focused his attention back on his own opponent. The Morkhai stood before him, its umbral body warping and twisting with each movement, a grotesque amalgamation of darkness given physical form.
Thanks to Serelle's magic, these bastards weren't able to vanish into the shadows anymore, but that didn't make them any less difficult to hit.
Viviane, meanwhile, fired off shot after shot from her crossbow, the bolts punching deep into the flesh of one of the Morkhai nearby. The monster staggered under the barrage of explosive projectiles, until finally falling to the ground with a resounding crash.
"One more!" Viviane cried out excitedly. "I got another one!"
A bolt of lightning suddenly arced across the battlefield, striking two of the monsters simultaneously, their forms flickering with white light as the blast tore through them.
Serelle lowered her hand, her fingertips still crackling with energy as the spell's effect ended. The two Morkhai fell to the ground, their bodies dissolving into wisps of shadow that quickly faded away.
That left them with two monsters remaining.
Thorsten growled, swinging his axe with renewed vigor, his muscles rippling as he cleaved into one of the last Morkhai. The beast lashed at him with its barbed tentacles, but his blows connected first, cutting through the creature's shadowy hide. The runes etched along his axe blade flared as they dug into the monster's flesh, sending pulses of energy into its body.
Finally, the Morkhai fell to the ground, its form dispersing into a pool of darkness.
"One more!" Thorsten roared triumphantly as he turned to face the final enemy.
An explosion rocked the campsite as Ingrid's greataxe discharged its remaining power in a shockwave of energy, blowing apart the last monster. The concussive blast wave flattened the nearby grass and blew past the others, whipping their clothes and hair in its wake.
A stunned silence descended upon the group as the dust settled. The unnatural darkness beyond the camp dissipated.
"Well...," Urien said, breaking the silence. "That works, too."
They all looked at each other, smiles slowly forming on their faces.
"Did we get them all?" Serelle asked cautiously.
Thorsten surveyed the destroyed campsite. "Looks like."
"About damn time!" Viviane shouted, pumping a fist in the air.
"The night is still young," Ingrid replied, resetting the transformation of her axe into its dual sword and shield configuration.
She grasped the axe's handle with both hands, feeling the familiar contours and etchings beneath her fingers. The two curved blades that formed the axe's head started retracting back into the shield's raven design, clicking into place.
Simultaneously, the extended sword blade began to retract, sliding back with a smooth, whispering sound. It shortened until it was once again the length of a normal sword. When all the mechanisms clicked back into place, Ingrid reached for the handle sticking out from the top of her shield and withdrew her sword from its sheath.
She inspected the blade, ensuring there were no signs of damage, and returned it to its scabbard, satisfied.
Urien stared at his warhammer and sighed. "Ah, bullocks. Didn't get to kill a single one!"
Lorne shrugged, sheathing his twin swords. "Next time, big man."
Serelle looked over the destruction of the campsite. "At least we have some spare materials for repairs. And perhaps a story to tell the folks back home."
A noise from the direction of the lake caught their attention.
They turned towards the source, expecting to see another batch of Morkhai emerging from the shadows.
Instead, they saw a very naked Ebonheim rushing towards them, dripping wet and looking slightly bewildered.
She stumbled, tripping over a root and nearly falling. She caught herself just in time, grasping at a nearby tree trunk and using it to steady herself. The divine aura that emanated from her radiated a faint, warm light that illuminated the immediate area, casting the campsite in a surreal, ethereal hue.
Her glistening olive skin sparkled in the moonlight, the beads of water clinging to her curves and flowing down her legs in rivulets. Her iridescent silver hair clung to her shoulders and breasts in strands.
The rest of her modesty was...somehow concealed by wisps of light that barely obstructed their view.
"Is everyone alright?! I sensed something was wrong and hurried back as soon as I could, but I had to deal with an Abyssal Dweller..." Ebonheim spoke quickly, her voice laced with worry. But the words seemed to die on her tongue as she realized she was being watched intently by a group of wide-eyed men and women. "...What? What is it?"
There was a moment of awkward silence as they all took in the scene.
Ingrid coughed uncomfortably, breaking the tension. "Um, Goddess, you seem to be missing, er, certain items of clothing."
"Eh?" Ebonheim glanced down at her naked form and quickly covered herself with her arms. "A—AAaaaaAAAaahhh!" She let out an embarrassed shriek as she dove back into the shrubbery.
The group watched as her silhouette disappeared into the thickets, perhaps heading towards where she had discarded her dress.
A short while later, an Ebonheim whose face was redder than Thorsten's hair reappeared, wearing a very damp, grass-stained gown. She refused to meet anyone's eye as she joined the group, pretending to look interested in an unimportant patch of grass on the ground.
"I—it appears everything is fine now," she stammered quietly before conjuring her Divine Cantrip to clean and dry her body and clothes.”I’m glad that you’re all safe.”
Nobody dared comment, and nobody had any idea what to say.
Some moments were meant to be forgotten and never discussed again.