Though the Primalist’s ally had dashed into the trees, Faye knew that there was no way she would be able to navigate through the dark forest, especially if there were dangerous foes inside.
Instead, she followed the somewhat more visible ribbon of road north.
Every few minutes, Faye would practise with [Swordfighter’s Sense]. It became rote, something she barely had to control. The superior active senses were disorienting, but she found that the more she used it — and ensuring she did not keep it activated for too long — she was getting better at interpreting the information it gave her quickly.
Occasionally, there were beasts she could sense just inside the forest. They were regular forest wildlife, but something about them told Faye that they could turn dangerous if they wanted or needed to.
Soon enough, she came to the border marker that they had used earlier to get to the giant-sized beast corpse. Turning off the path, Faye drew her sword and thought about what she was doing.
There were people planning to attack the adventurers, and if they had already started, she need only attack the back lines to hopefully turn the tide in her favour before the attackers decided they had had enough.
If the adventurers had not yet been attacked, would it be better to warn them, or wait in the side-lines for an opportune moment?
She shook her head. She would decide when she got there.
The path to the beast corpse was over grass banks and at the top of a hill. From here, she could see nothing, hear nothing. She would need to skirt around a thin arm of the forest to truly be close to the site, though. It was possible that—
The night sky lit up with a garish crimson and virulent green glow, centred in front of her, right where the beast corpse should be.
A low rumble and other sounds could be heard, but it was the sudden clash of metal against metal that spurred Faye onward.
No worries about whether the battle has started or not, then… she grumbled to herself.
As she hurried forward, the sounds of the fight grew clearer. The low roar grew more distinct, the bassy rumble becoming individual roars and cries of monsters.
Faye had reached the hill, and as she neared the top she slowed. Peeking over the lip and onto the flatter area, she saw low-light torches set up around the area the crafters had been working. Half of the beast had been… gouged away, almost.
She could see the huddled forms of the three crafters with the beast at their backs. They held no weapons.
Standing before them was Ailith. The Guardian was easy to make out, the torch light gleaming off her half-plate armour.
A shadow detached from the top of the beast and for a moment, Faye’s heart stopped as she thought that one of the enemies had gotten above the crafters… but the figure made a gesture and suddenly deadly shards of ice formed above, sparkling in the light of the torches.
They slammed into the ground to the left of the beast, towards the forest edge. Faye assumed that was where the enemy were attacking from.
From this distance, she could not see Gavan’s face at all, but it was obviously the adventurer mage using his signature attack.
It was the other magic that Faye was worried about. The virulent green magic seemed to be the plant-based thorns and vines that her Primalist opponent had used. Even from here, she could see the furrows where thorny vines had ravaged the ground.
Ailith slammed her maul into the ground, the reverberations powerful enough for even Faye to feel. Thorns and vines that had been growing closer were disrupted.
But, emerging now into the light of the torches were the hulking forms of at least three Awakened Briars.
Faye swallowed and picked herself up from her crouch. She tested her injured leg with a soft stamp, it twinged but it held under her weight. She nodded, good enough.
Angling left, toward the trees, Faye hoped to flank the other Primalists — or whatever they were. By moving with a smooth gait, Faye ensured that her footsteps were not too heavy.
It was concentrating on being stealthy that meant she found her first opponent before they found her.
Faye had never spent much time around archery, but the vibrating hum of a quiet bow was almost unmistakable. A shadow next to a great, thick tree moved and she saw the archer. They were placing another arrow on the string.
She waited a moment for them to draw.
When the archer’s arm came back, she exploded forward as fast as she could.
The archer had heard her charging through the plants and grasses.
Sharp ears, she thought.
Instead of loosing the arrow, the archer chose to release the tension of their draw and attempt to spin to draw on Faye.
Unfortunately for the archer, Faye angled left some more, getting the trunk of the big tree in the way of their shot. The archer tried to snap off a quick arrow anyway, but it shot past Faye into the darkness of the trees.
The moment the arrow launched, Faye changed trajectories and went straight for the archer. Raising her blade in a two-handed overhead strike.
The archer dropped the bow and drew what looked to be a short sword, its blade dulled by some kind of covering.
Faye brought her sword down in a heavy slash with a grunt of exertion.
The sword whipped through the air quicker than she had ever managed before, and it was only her well-trained muscle memory that prevented the tip of the blade hitting the ground, her arms already working to bring the blade up and around for another slash, this time diagonally.
The first slice had been blocked, pushed off to Faye’s left a little, but that mattered little, her follow-up came quickly, and the archer did not get their smaller blade up in time. Faye had the measure of her opponent; their blade was far too short to counter her longer one because when the archer tried to lunge forward Faye was quick to step back and use a stopping thrust that hit hard.
The wooden tip of her blade came away blooded, and the archer clamped one hand against the shoulder that had been penetrated.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Faye did not give the archer any more time to consider what to do, to say anything, nor to call out. She dashed in with a feinted thrust that made the archer duck, switching to a cut that came down on their neck and ear.
The archer went to the ground, but Faye heard no notification. She stepped forward and thrust downward.
Congratulations! You have defeated a level nine [Primalist Archer].
Experience awarded.
Swallowing her guttural feeling of horror of reducing a human life down to a number and awarded experience. Faye crouched next to her downed opponent and took stock of the battle.
Gavan’s magic was reaching out and striking down the lumbering Awakened Briars easily enough, though their natural resistances were clearly working against the deadly shards of ice that he favoured.
From this angle, she could see Ailith was still standing before the crafters, all three of whom looked safe enough. One of the Awakened Briars had gotten close, but Ailith’s maul was making a mess of its body of woody vines. Each blow would remove huge chunks of plant matter from its body, and the roars it was making echoed into the night.
At that moment, two figures burst out of the treeline further around to Faye’s left, emerging into the empty, grassy space between the trees and the body of the beast. One was huge, wearing armour that accentuated their hulking form. The armour was covered in spikes, and the helmet sported two massive antlers.
The figure wielded a large, bearded axe that they were swinging like it weighed nothing.
The second figure was the lithe form of Arran, he was dodging and avoiding the heavy blows of the axe wielding Primalist rather than try to take them head on.
Faye shook herself. She could not just sit and watch them fight.
Looking along the line of the forest, to her left, she could see the glow of magic as other casters were preparing something.
Heading deeper into the forest so that she could, hopefully, come up on the casters from the direction opposite the other adventurers, Faye stalked forward.
She heard some voices, arguing. Getting closer but keeping a large tree between her and the Primalists, she was able to hear what they were saying.
“These are not the weak and pathetic heathens you promised us!”
“Even Her Awakened are powerless against them.”
“Peace, both of you,” said the third voice, interrupting the arguments of the first two. “Ours is not the only plan the Goddess has enacted. Play your part well, and She may bestow favour upon you.”
Faye frowned. It seemed that these followers of some goddess were planning multiple attacks.
“There is no guarantee that Háll will defeat that swordsman.”
Faye peeked around the tree. She was shrouded in darkness, but the three Primalists were surrounded by odd light that seemed to emanate from behind one of the figures. That one spoke again.
“The Goddess granted Háll great strength. Is your faith in Her lacking?”
“My faith in Her never wavers, but Her mortal instruments are removed from Her power. It is they who might fail, and it is in them my faith lacks.”
The figures were moving through the trees, closer to the forest’s edge and the fight Arran and the Primalist; this Háll they were discussing, she assumed. Faye waited a few moments so that their hearing would be occupied by the sounds of battle before them. Then, moving forward, Faye thought about what Ceri had been telling her about imbuement.
The general idea was injecting an imprint of mana on an object. Depending on the type of mana, the effect you wanted, and the amount of mana expended, the imbued item might do all manner of things, and for different lengths of time.
For arrows, Ceri had said that she had been able to quickly and crudely imbue them with her arcane mana to offer greater stopping power. Faye did not think that forcing mana into her armaments would be a good idea… but part of her knew that if she was to survive against multiple enemies she would need to put as many of them down as quickly as possible.
Ahead, the light of the crafter’s torches was a strong backlight for the duelling figures in the space between the corpse and the trees. Arran was still dancing around the larger, heavily formed Háll. The giant of a man was still going, each huge swing slamming into the ground around Arran as he dodged.
Faye grimaced. She was not sure if Arran would survive one of those mighty hits.
From this far back, she could not make out Ailith and the others, but the fight between the Primalist and Arran were not the only sounds of battle she could hear.
The Primalists she had heard arguing were each standing a dozen paces away from the forest’s edge. From behind, Faye could only see their silhouettes. But each one seemed to wear a similar headdress that the Primalist Caller she had defeated earlier had worn.
Idly, Faye wondered which one of these was the one that had been the Caller’s companion. She did not recognise their voices, but that was no guarantee that he was not one of the three.
Faye came to a halt behind a tree of her own. She was a dozen swift steps away from the three Primalists. They were all three silent, watching enraptured the duel before them.
She was unsure if she should jump forward now, whilst they were distracted…
Suddenly, a loud cracking sound erupted in the forest as a large ice shard careened through the trees at the three Primalists.
They shouted and cursed, but the ice shard hit one of the larger trunks and shattered. The smaller pieces exploded outward and engulfed the Primalist on the far left from Faye. She ducked down herself instinctively.
“TAKE HIM OUT!” the middle Primalist screamed.
It seemed that the Primalist on the left was already out of the fight, as he did not rouse, but the one on the right lifted his arms to the sky and started chanting.
The middle one just watched, snarling something under their breath.
Faye’s heart lurched. If that Primalist was another Caller, then they would bring lightning down on the adventurers. She could not let them bear the brunt of an attack like that when she could do something about it.
Forming a plan in her mind’s eye as quickly as she could, Faye ran out from behind her tree trunk.
The Primalist that had been uttering savage curses turned the moment she started running. She couldn’t see his expression with the darkness, but she assumed she’d shocked him because he just stared for a precious few seconds.
But she wasn’t running at him.
Two steps from the Primalist who was chanting and glowing with awful crimson light, Faye brought down her blade on the unarmoured neck of the Caller.
Her wooden blade split the skin and flesh easily, and it bit into the man’s spine. He dropped, his chant cutting off in a crazed cry of pain that drew out into a horrific sound of air escaping.
Faye ignored the quiet chime of the notification and suppressed the words.
As his body fell to the forest floor, it caught at her wooden blade and tugged it from Faye’s hands.
Letting it go, she stepped over the body and drew her dagger.
“Goddess below, grant me your power,” the final Primalist before her chanted.
Shit, she cursed.
Flinging her hand forward, Faye called upon her trusted Fire Dart. Which launched forward just as the Primalist’s eyes took on a crimson hue.
The Fire Dart impacted against the Primalist’s chest, but rather than hurting them at all, it seemed more that they were enraged.
“You bring fire here?!”
Faye tried not to sigh. She didn’t bother replying. The look of anger and magic in the Primalist’s eyes made Faye reconsider getting close enough to stab. Backing off, Faye was reluctant to go further back into the forest. If this Primalist’s spells were like the Caller’s, she did not want more options for the mage.
Unfortunately, it seemed that this Primalist was different than the Callers. He drew a long dagger with a wavy blade like a snake’s body — a kris. The blade came a terrible point, and the Primalist wove it through the air in a dancing motion.
“The Goddess punishes—”
Faye was not very interested in what the fanatic had to say about their goddess, so she pointed two fingers at the man’s body and activated Scorching Lance.
The thick beam of fire erupted from her outstretched fingers and struck the Primalist dead centre. He roared out a challenge, his crimson eyes brightening as he did so.
A few heartbeats later, the spell cut out, along with almost half of Faye’s mana reserves. The man was still standing, and though the clothes and beads of bones that he had been wearing around his neck were ruined he charged forward.
Faye had lost both swords and was now armed with only her dagger and the two spells she already knew. She was not sure how a fight against a crazed Primalist might go, but [Swordfighter’s Sense] was going haywire.
She backed off further, then, with a lurch, she turned and ran away. Skirting the fighting Primalist and Arran, she curved her run toward the lights and Ailith and the others.
God, I was lucky enough to survive the fights I’ve already been in.
Ailith caught sight of her and immediately turned to the crafters. The next moment, the Guardian was charging toward Faye.
“Ailith!” she shouted, “Primalist following, looks angry, hit with a spell already.”
Faye wasn’t able to hear her response, because before she could get to relative safety behind the heavily armed and armoured woman, something grasped her ankle and viciously yanked her leg out from under her. She slammed into the ground and struggled to roll over.
The Primalist was close, and his kris was gleaming in the light of the torches. Half of the blade was covered in something red. Worse were the crimson eyes. Boring into Faye’s own. Promising something awful.