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Myopia

Myopia

As the fiery conflagration insatiably consumes the staff of Phoenix Guild, I move heavy footsteps to confront the Primal Ape. The vision, if that's what it could be called, was very clear. Retreating meant my death. The only chance of survival I had, was to confront the rampaging Bioform pack leader and prevail.

Bile churns in my stomach and I feel my bladder just nearly loosen from fear. Even with the guidance from the vision, the odds of me carrying the day were close to zero. After all, the last scene I witnessed before coming to my senses was the Primal Ape turning me into a bloody smear on the ground.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND. HOLD YOUR GROUND." the PA system blares from its lofty position suspended on the top of a metal pole. Of course hardly anybody bothers to listen.

Except for the Warrior Captain who nips at the heels of the Primal Ape like a persistent chihuahua. Thanks to the increased muscle mass his Warrior class abilities provide, the Captain has almost doubled in size. He would be a freaking giant compared to the rest of us. And his sword is ablaze with an ethereal light, unleashing palpable shock waves of power with every swing the Captain makes. All very impressive, but not particularly effective.

The Warrior Captain's been opening up shallow wounds all over the Primal Ape's legs, but even with enhanced strength, he can't really get past that scaly carapace that is the Primal Ape's main form of protection. The bioform isn't stupid either, carefully positioning itself so the Captain doesn't have a clear shot at any unarmored parts of its body.

"Die, beast!" the Warrior Captain dramatically proclaims as he dodges an attempt by the Primal Ape to punt him skyward. With another swing of his sword, a shock wave is released, this time aimed straight at the base of the bioform's foot. Where it delivers an impressive gash against the layer of carapace formed around the Primal Ape's heel.

A small trickle of blood oozes out of the wound and the Primal Ape makes a mildly irritated noise. Another minor wound. The bioform's natural armor blunts too much of the Warrior Captain's attacks for him to be a real threat. And that's incredibly bad news. I haven't seen the Gunslinger Captain ever since the Primal Ape sent him flying. The Warrior Captain is probably the strongest Guild staff on hand right now. And our champion is barely making a dent in that monster.

The titanic bioform snorts disdainfully at its opponent, uprooting a palm tree and swinging about like a broom. The Warrior Captain gracefully summersaults over makeshift weapon, his enhanced reflexes more than a match for the clumsy attack. But the Primal Ape abruptly lunges forward, shoulder checking the Captain with a dull clang as our man's armor cracks like a walnut from the impact. A few pieces of that over elaborate tiger helmet the Warrior Captain wears whizz past my face as his body sinks into the morass of corpses that litter the battlefield.

Took a blow straight to the head, huh? Yeah, our champ is gone.

I break into a brisk jog, moving into casting range of the Primal Ape. Rift Sorcerers are not as fast and strong as Warriors. Neither can we deliver the raw damage of a Gunslinger. There's nevertheless a very important reason why every Guild still wants to hire Rift Sorcerers.

Our class powers work by fiat.

Soul Fire always hits and does its mandated amount of damage, no matter how quick or tough my opponent is. Fortress allows me to withstand even a direct nuclear strike as long as it is active. I may just be a third class Rift Sorcerer, but in an admittedly limited sense, my two (TWO) spells tower over what both the Warrior and Gunslinger Captains are able to accomplish.

So now's my time to shine.

Coming to a stop, I stand feet apart and raise the casting focus, ready to unleash hell. Or rather a single cast of Soul Fire. The Primal Ape finally notices me and looks distinctly unimpressed. My first reaction is to take offence. Then the bile starts rising again. Real life might not be exactly matching what my vision displayed, but all the important parts are unfolding the same way. And if I continue down the same path, I would reach the obvious outcome.

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My death.

The Primal Ape snorts derisively at me. I gather my magical power, feeling it well up deep within my soul. And at the critical moment -

The Primal Ape stumbles as that rando Combatant I saved during the main brawl slashes at the Primal Ape's leg with his sword. The Primal Ape whirls about, preoccupied with the guy actually doing something instead of posing as a statue.

I let out the stagnant breath I had been holding. At the crucial moment, I froze up. My nerve broke and I couldn't cast. A blessing in disguise. Rando Combatant is now taking up the bioform's attention, leaving me in the clear.

"Soul Fire!" I declare and an arc of purple flame hits the Primal Ape in the small of its back. There's a grunt of pain from the monster, but Rando Combatant is doing a good job of holding its attention. He might not be as fast or strong as the Warrior Captain, but Rando Combatant's blade work is arguably superior. His sword moves like water, seeking out the weak spots in the Primal Ape's carapace. Rando Combatant might not have the muscle, but he's got deadly precision on his side.

As I continue observing the fight, an overall sense of wrongness begins to sink in. I might not have trained as a Warrior, but I've been around the block enough times to recognize the sanctioned fighting styles taught by the Academy. And Rando Combatant's style doesn't match any of them. He's also far too capable to be just part of the regular Combatant Department.

Mulling over the mysteries behind my ad hoc partner, I sling another bolt of Soul Fire at the Primal Ape. Rando Combatant's pirouettes about the battlefield, easily dodging the Primal Ape's sledgehammer fists without grossly inflated physical abilities.

"Optical illusion? Has to be." I squint, keeping track of Rando Combatant's footwork.

There's a subtle deception at work here. His pirouettes create a false impression of distance, making Rando Combatant appear closer to the Primal Ape than he actually is. So that's how he's been managing to survive so far. This is an incredible technique. Yet Rando Combatant didn't use it in the main melee with the lesser bioforms.

Why was he hiding his knowledge of this technique? Even in a life or death situation?

Whatever. In goes another casting of Soul Fire. This time the spell hits the back of the Primal Ape's head. As long as Rando Combatant doesn't get himself stomped, I can chip away the Primal Ape until our inevitable victory.

More worryingly, there's something wrong with me. First it was the vision or daydream. Now, I keep seeing a glint on the ground out of the corner of my eyes. That wouldn't be a problem by itself, but that weird glint has an almost magnetic pull. I have to physically fight the urge to turn my head and look at it. And worse still, my eyesight is getting screwed up. Rando Combatant is actually starting to turn fuzzy, like an out of focus picture. Thankfully, everything around him remains the same.

Then I realize that the bioform has turned around to squarely face me. My mouth goes dry as I realize the fundamental mistake I made.

I'm the only person doing actual damage to the Primal Ape. No matter how pitiful that damage is, the Primal Ape would eventually get pissed at me. Both arms of the Primal Ape rise to the sky.

Crap. I remember this move from the vision. Both my legs lock up in panic. But at least I retain enough presence of mind to cast.

Fortress comes to life, shrouding me in its protective embrace just in time for both the Primal Ape's arms to slam back to the ground. The reverberations send Rando Combatant staggering about before slumping to his knees like a rag doll. Fortress tanks the attack comfortably though, leaving me immobilized but safe.

Instead of finishing off the stunned Rando Combatant, Primal Ape sends its beefy fist flying right at me. I wince as the monster's knuckles crash into Fortress. But my luck is just about tapped out with Fortress starting to dissipate already. Primal Ape winds its arm back again, readying to deliver another blow. Rando Combatant manages to recover from having his organs jolted about, an alarmed expression on his face.

Rando Combatant tosses aside his sword, no doubt preparing to cut and run. Not that I blame him. I'm only here because my attempt at fleeing was foiled by the gigantic explosion and resulting fire.

Then something totally unexpected happens.

Rando Combatant starts hugging the Primal Ape's leg. The monster makes a grunt of surprise, temporarily shifting its attention away from me. Smoke starts to rise from the leg, as well as the scent of barbeque.

And the Primal Ape screams.