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5.11

5.11

Now, Northern Philippines

Hooked claws allowed Ramon to climb the tree with ease despite his size and weight.

His targets were close to a dense tangle of thick branches about twenty feet over their heads.

He wasn’t certain that the branches could handle his weight, but he only needed to get close enough for a leap to land him in their midst.

The battle continued to rage between his balbal family and the people.

Two pockets of fierce fighting had emerged.

The spear-wielding people had formed a tight circle behind their spears and shields as they tried to keep the balbal at bay.

A porcupine in truth.

Ramon was thrilled to notice that the remains of many people littered the forest floor. It almost made up for the sight of many of his family also unmoving.

Focus.

It was hard to do so with the many delicious scents in the air.

The fear.

The blood and guts.

He longed to let his true self free and gorge.

Soon.

Just a dozen or so feet closer to his target.

The second pocket of fighting contained his targets.

The mage that had called lightning and the leader that gave the people bravery to stand and fight.

They were surrounded by a mixed group.

Magic shields protected their rear.

Ramon was confused.

The shields weren’t being conjured by people.

They appeared to be coming out of a pair of bulky-looking laptops attached to a strange, glowing device.

A battery?

Ramon’s family struck at the shields with battering fists and cutting claws, but aside from a few cracks the shields held.

At the front of this group a woman in strange-looking armor wielded a sword that sliced limbs from the attacking balbal.

She moved with impossible grace and precision.

They couldn’t get past her.

And all the while the people behind the woman hit them with spells and gunfire.

A man, a mage, raised his open hand to the air. Roots speared out of the ground underneath a balbal, holding him in place. “Hanna!”

The sword-wielding woman spun on her knees, blade flashing in the magical lighting.

Another balbal swiped at her.

Ramon didn’t see it happen, but the balbal suddenly toppled to the ground, legs gone at the knees.

The woman dashed forward and took the captured balbal’s head off with a quick slash.

There was an ease to her movements that sent rage bubbling up in Ramon.

People shouldn’t be able to do this to them.

They were supposed to be the stronger ones now.

That was why they had chosen the change, after all.

“Trevor! Throw this, but aim for one that isn’t close to our guys.”

“What is it?” the young man took the small glass container from another young man, more like a boy in Ramon’s eyes.

“I call it ‘sticky fire’.”

“So… napalm?”

“No, it’s got magical qualities. It’ll stick to the target and spread until it covers them completely. It’s got a lot less spreadability than real fire.”

“Okay, sounds good!” the young man spoke a few words, wound up and hurled the container.

To Ramon’s shock it curved through the air in impossible ways.

Like a snake, it avoided people and nearby balbal before it struck the one furthest away from any people in the face.

The fire bloomed like a flower in the dark. It spread quickly as the boy had said, until the balbal was wreathed in flames.

The unfortunate balbal beat at the flames and when that didn’t work, she dropped to the ground and rolled.

None of it worked.

She stopped moving as the flames continued to cook her body.

Ramon ached for his family.

“Nice one, Santi!”

“Santiago!” the boy snapped.

A balbal managed to get past the sword-wielding woman, the spells, the bullets.

Ramon silently cheered his sister on as she reached for a young woman covered in glowing, amber-colored Mage Armor and holding a large, gray-colored round shield.

The balbal struck with a mighty downward blow.

The young woman cringed behind her shield.

Instead of a resounding clang and the young woman battered to the ground screaming from the pain of a shattered arm. There was only a dull thud.

To Ramon’s utter shock.

The young woman had barely budged.

Impossible!

He had struck shields before. Wood or metal, it didn’t matter. He had shattered them and dented them with ease.

The young woman screamed for help as she tripped in her haste to fall back struggling to aim her shotgun.

The balbal raised a clawed hand.

The desperate young woman’s shotgun barked.

Confusion on Ramon and the balbal’s face.

Small holes appeared on the latter’s chest. They didn’t heal. Blood leaked. The pain didn’t go away.

“Amber! Hold it right there, aswang. You’re Under Arrest!” a man said.

Impossibly, the balbal stopped.

Ramon could feel the Skill.

It was only for an instant.

They were too powerful to be stopped by a mere person’s Skill.

But a second was enough.

The young woman’s shotgun barked again, spraying the balbal’s face.

Hot pain peppered Ramon’s sister.

Confusion bred hesitation.

“Rebekah, now!” the man screamed.

A woman ran forward, emptying a submachine gun into the balbal. She tossed it aside and drew an axe. “Power Strike!” Drove it deep into the balbal’s head.

They were tough and hard to kill, but Ramon knew that level of damage to the brain wasn’t one that his sister could survive.

The pain of loss was brief.

It was replaced by hatred.

“Oh shit! My Danger Sense is spiking!” a man and a woman screamed in unison.

He was close enough.

“Flesh Rage!” he roared in a guttural tongue as he threw himself into the air.

Supernatural strength flowed into his muscles. Fueled by the full belly of meat he had eaten before the battle.

The warning wasn’t enough.

Magic shields flashed and shattered as Ramon crashed into them from above.

Bodies went flying.

He only had eyes for the big man.

It was odd for a mage to look more like a fighter. At least from Ramon’s experience.

The man pointed a smartphone, of all things, at Ramon. “Have a triple strength Shock, you ugly bastard!.”

Blue lightning arced out of the phone and into Ramon.

His muscles seized and spasmed.

A smell like cooked pork filled his nostrils.

“Mmm… barbecue,” he grunted.

Too bad he liked his meat raw now.

He stalked toward the big mage and struck.

“Mana Shield!”

A ghostly, blue outline surrounded the man at the last instant.

The blow sent him flying a dozen feet into the dense undergrowth.

Ramon snarled.

That should’ve eviscerated the man.

Ramon felt something pelt his back. He turned.

It was the leader with a strange-looking gun in her hands.

“We need to salt it!” she yelled as she sent a steady stream of projectiles into Ramon.

More than a gun should’ve been capable of firing without reloading.

Ramon raised an arm to protect his eyes.

The bullets weren’t doing much, but it would’ve been inconvenient if he had to wait for his eyes to heal. Not to mention the possibility of being salted.

He decided that the mage could wait. There was a good target right in front of him.

“Commander!”

Another man pushed the woman out of the way just as Ramon’s clawed hand reached for her.

Ramon grabbed him around the chest instead and pulled him closer for a bite.

“Thorn Armor!” the man screamed.

Ramon recoiled as the sharp spines around the man’s head pierced the tender insides of his mouth.

The thorns around the rest of the man’s body didn’t bother him as much.

Ramon grabbed the man’s right arm. Ignoring the thorns stabbing into his hand. He pulled and wrenched as the man and others around them screamed in horror.

“Max!” A woman pointed at Ramon. “Eldritch Dart!”

A pinkish dart lined with black crackling energy sizzled into Ramon’s side.

He hissed in pain.

That one had hurt.

He cast the stricken man aside like garbage. He had what he wanted, needed.

He deliberately peeled the thorns, the armor and clothing off the man’s severed arm.

Then proceeded to stuff the entire appendage into his distended mouth.

He allowed himself to savor the taste for a moment before swallowing.

“Where is that salt!”

“Amber’s got the salt rounds!”

Ramon felt the wounds heal with a quickened pace as the fresh meat fueled his Aswang: Balbal abilities.

He had also given his rage more time.

The people focused everything on him.

Spells. Weapons. Glass containers containing strange substances.

A tough-looking woman emptied a pistol in his face before hacking at his knee with an axe.

He took the blow then backhanded the woman into a tree.

She groaned and struggled to get back up.

A young man threw a rock that somehow knocked him to the ground.

Ramon shook his head as he stood. That had been like getting hit by a car.

The young man’s eyes went wide as Ramon charged.

The rage had taken hold. It was getting harder to remain focused on his initial targets.

A young woman in amber-colored magic armor stepped in his path.

A loud boom had Ramon hissing in pain.

The cursed salt.

Small chunks peppered his body.

He continued his charge, raising a clawed hand.

The young woman ducked behind her dull, gray shield.

Stupid.

Ramon had seen how strong it was. He wasn’t going to hit it. He’d simply reach around it with his long arms and grab the young woman. More flesh in his stomach would help counteract the salt’s effects and he could start healing again.

Inches away.

Something big and heavy crashed into him.

Enough to knock him to the ground.

A thick arm wrapped itself around Ramon’s neck, while legs wrapped themselves around his waist. Both squeezed.

Strong, but not supernaturally so.

Ramon recognized the blue glow.

“Stupid mage. You should’ve hit me with your lightning. At least I felt that one,” Ramon growled.

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“What? Are you actually talking?” the big mage grunted with the strain.

Ramon grabbed the man’s arm and legs and pried them off.

“Shit!”

He lifted the big mage up and slammed the man into the forest floor.

Then he started stomping.

The blue magic shield began to crack and flicker.

One last blow and it vanished.

“Now, I repay you for my family,” Ramon’s mouth distended impossible wide as he bent down.

“Protect And Serve.”

Ramon forgot the big mage at his feet.

He shook his head in confusion.

That voice.

It was the only thing that mattered.

He located the source a short distance away.

It was the same man that had halted his sister in her tracks with a Skill.

The only thought in Ramon’s head was that he had to kill that man. Everyone else had been forgotten.

The man emptied his submachine gun into Ramon as he charged.

Ramon grabbed the man and slammed him into the ground.

Then he punched him right in the chest.

Everyone heard the loud crack.

Ramon blinked.

Right, he was about to finally devour that big mage.

Where did the mage go?

Who was this other person dying on the ground?

He looked around and saw that the people had closed ranks.

There was the circle of shields and spears like a porcupine that somehow continued to keep his brothers and sisters at bay.

There was that lone sword-wielding woman that still fought.

His targets had all retreated behind magic shields.

He spied many wounded, perhaps dying.

He noticed that the big mage was frantically typing into a laptop.

He could sense the magic building.

“To me, my brothers and sisters!” Ramon’s words were barely understandable, but he reached the rest on a deeper level through their inherent connection as a family. “Kill the big mage and the woman leader!”

All the balbal charged and began to batter the magic shields.

Cracks spider-webbed under their fists.

Ramon could taste the fear.

Victory was at hand.

The sword-wielding woman would be overwhelmed in time once they could concentrate everything on her.

The spear-wielders had lost half their number and they too couldn’t stay behind their shields for much longer.

The feast would be glorious.

They would honor their fallen family.

The magic shields shattered as the people screamed like squealing pigs to the slaughter.

“Spear Charge!”

Ramon was taken aback by the spear-wielders as their gruff leader led them forward.

Brave, but stupid.

The sword-wielding woman in the strange armor charged forward desperately.

All too late.

Ramon saw the terror in her eyes.

“Tenfold Cu—” she screamed.

Stop.

The balbal stopped moving. Some in mid-strike.

Ramon strained with all his might, but couldn’t move an inch.

The people were unaffected.

They looked at each other in confusion. Then relief.

The sword-wielding woman frowned.

Then she rushed forward and beheaded a defenseless balbal.

Ramon wanted to scream for his sister, but couldn’t.

The spear-wielders continued their charge and thrust their weapons into unprotected backs.

With the salt on his family’s bodies the people would eventually do enough damage to kill them.

It wasn’t fair.

They were so close to victory.

To successfully defending their home.

Yeah… this isn’t fair. I didn’t have much choice. I’ve seen enough to know that you aren’t outright evil. Not truly monsters. I understand that your Classes turned you into this, but you still had a choice. You kill innocent people for food. Ways exist for you to survive without murder. So, yes, you would’ve won this night if I hadn’t intervened. If it’s any consolation… the one that turned you into this will pay.

Ramon felt an overwhelming wave of sadness wash over him right before a massive bolt of lightning turned him to ash.

----------------------------------------

“How are they doing?”

Cal couldn’t look his dad in the eyes. “It’s over. They’re mopping up,” he said softly. The lump in his throat surprised him. It took an effort to keep the tears from coming.

“Casualties?”

His dad knew.

“Half the spears and the Watch— they’re going to lose one, maybe two.”

“Only twelve were killed?” Ginessa’s eyes went wide.

“It would’ve been everyone if I hadn’t intervened,” Cal said. “Dad, I’m having second thoughts about continuing as planned.”

“The two of us can handle the rest of the village,” his dad nodded.

“Without too much difficulty,” Cal agreed. “Except, that’s not the plan. The others do need to get stronger, gain levels, points and combat experience beyond fighting dumb monsters. Emotional me is having a hard time with rational me… or vice versa,” he shrugged.

“Just make a decision and carry it out to the best of your ability,” his dad said.

“I can’t even find the rangers or Rino. It’s not just having to keep the gabunan from connecting with the other aswangs, but there’s something about the village that’s making it hard to…” he regarded Ginessa, “do my thing. It feels like magic.”

“The family is strong together. Family protects family,” Ginessa recited.

“Uh…” his dad eyed her suspiciously.

“Right, got it.” Cal waved a hand over Ginessa’s suddenly glassy-eyed stare. He carefully prodded her mind with his telepathy.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Ginessa reddened.

“I think your connection to the Elder just went on-line for a moment.”

Ginessa visibly shook.

“Don’t worry. It’s blocked for now. Though, I think, with your consent, I may be able to use it to find the Elder,” Cal smiled.

“Splitting the difference then?” his dad said.

“Something like that.”

A plan.

To take his attention away from what was going on several hundred feet below.

On the forest floor beneath the tree canopy hard-fought victory felt like anything but for brave men and women.

Ron was on the ground.

Jake knelt next to him.

Rebekah, axe in hand, stood guard close by. Anguish was etched on her normally taciturn features.

Others milled around, some tried to establish a defensive perimeter, but they were in shock at the brutality of the battle.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off they noticed the smell of the dead and the dying permeating the air they breathed.

“Santi! Healing potion, now!” Jake bellowed.

They had removed Ron’s armor and clothing.

His chest was a ruined mess. Deformed inward, bloody bits of ivory protruded from a dozen places. His entire torso looked as if it had been painted in dark purples and bright reds.

When he coughed they could hear the liquid moving in his lungs.

Blood splattered Jake’s face.

He didn’t notice.

“Hang on, bro!” Jake pleaded.

Ron’s face twisted. “I— I— I’m done, man. Oh God… I can’t—”

“Stop trying to talk then. You dumbfuck,” Jake smiled even as his lips quivered and tears welled up in his eyes.

“Santiago! The healing potion,” Demi said calmly.

“Fuck the potion! Doesn’t someone have a healing spell?” Jake looked around wildly.

“Max has a weak one, but,” Del said with a glance to the side, “he’s not going to be much help.”

“Why the fuck not?” Jake followed Del’s gaze. “Oh.”

Max was deathly pale on the ground. Pain was etched on his face as several people held him down while Santiago poured a greenish liquid over the raw stump of Max’s shoulder.

“I don’t know if it’ll work. He’s lost a lot of blood and my healing potion sorta only speeds up the body’s natural healing process. I’ve only had first aid lessons, but I’m pretty sure Max needs a transfusion, but I don’t think we’ve got the equipment for that out here.” Santiago’s words came out in a torrent.

“Here, toss me one of those,” Jake held out a hand.

“Forget it… it won’t work,” Ron choked.

“What’re you saying? We have to try.”

“Commander,” Del whispered in Demi’s ear, “we’ve got nothing that can fix this. We need Megan-level healing just for a chance.”

Demi nodded, set her jaw and crouched down, gently brushing Ron’s hair aside to lay a hand on his forehead. “Watch Officer, Ron, you’ve done your duty above and beyond expectations. Not just here and now, but in the ten years that we’ve fought together. You’ve saved lives today and in doing so will save lives in the future.”

“For a better tomorrow,” Ron whispered. “My sister…”

“Yes, always,” Demi said through grit teeth. “We, I will make sure that Hillary is taken care of,” she said.

“Thank you, Watch Captain Lawrence,” Ron coughed.

They could see the pieces of his shattered ribs shift.

“Jesus, bro,” Jake wailed. “This isn’t right. You can’t go out like this… not because of me.”

“Your tech’s too important to lose. That’s why you got to make sure you train my sister up properly, so your dumb ass won’t be so special.” Ron’s voice grew fainter. His eyes began to lose focus. “Besides, you’d done the same for me.”

“Yeah, man. For sure.” Jake couldn’t hold back the tears. “I’m gonna make Hillary the greatest Techmage in the world!”

“Promise me,” Ron’s hand shook, but he manage to reach up.

Jake clasped tight. “I swear. I’ll take care of her as good as you did.”

“Wish I could see the sky,” Ron stared up into the dense canopy. A bloody smile suddenly graced his lips. “Thanks… it’s so beautiful.” His words were barely a whisper. “Promise me…”

“Yeah, bro, I’ll never forget,” Jake said.

“Promise me… you’ll make it safe for my sister… you’ll make a world were she won’t have to die in a forest so far from those she loves… please… when we’re done here, you’ll go back… you’ll fight them… you’ll destroy them… please… my last request…” Ron gave one last rattling breath. Then his eyes saw nothing.

In the sky above Cal wanted to scream.

Another death he had allowed to happen.

Instead he said one word.

“Promise.”

----------------------------------------

Rino loped through the rainforest.

Dense brush and thick roots were no match for a giant dog the size of a lion.

Her role was clear and simple.

Strike hard and fast.

Hit the aswang village’s sentries and outer patrols, but don’t get bogged down.

Something she was perfectly suited for.

The two aswangs perched high in the tree branches thought that being thirty feet up meant that they were safe. They were ugly little things. Bat-like wings tucked tight to their backs, while bat-like faces stared down at her.

She slowed to a walk and stared up at them. Ear’s flicked, tongue lolled, while she turned her head quizzically.

That’s right. Just a nice doggy out for an evening run, Rino thought.

She wasn’t sure exactly how smart the aswangs were in their transformed state.

She knew from experience that the different forms influenced a person in subtle and obvious ways. Case in point, if something small ran in front of her right now, it’d take an effort not to give chase.

The two aswangs mirrored each other in that they didn’t move a muscle. They could’ve been statues if not for their blinking eyes.

Berbalang.

Rino remembered the information they had received from the little beauty queen.

Capable of illusions.

Physically weak when compared to herself.

She took a deep sniff. Her muzzle split into a grin.

They could fool her eyes, but not her nose.

She sprang quicker than the blink of an eye.

Thirty feet up in a tree was nothing to her.

The berbalang on the left dived at her, but she let it harmlessly pass through her as the berbalang on the right took off into the air.

Rather, it tried.

She bit down around its chest.

Bones crunched.

It was already dead when she landed on the ground.

She shook it like a rag doll for a moment. Then crushed its head for good measure.

She did her best to clear her mouth of the foul-tasting blood and flesh.

Maybe she could find a small animal to hunt to cleanse the palate.

Although the prospect of that seemed unlikely considering how strangely quite the area surrounding the aswang village was.

It made sense to her.

Prey didn’t last long in the vicinity of an entire village of superior predators.

Rino’s ears perked up.

Sounds of battle filtered through the dense rainforest.

That she heard them at all meant that it was close.

A full fight needed a different form.

Rino changed before she barreled toward the battle.

Some distance away, Sgt. Butcher made a decision. “Squad: Enhanced Coordination, Squad: Shared Awareness.” No point in saving Skills if you couldn’t win and survive.

Facing 15 berbalang was better than facing 30, but the rangers were still at a disadvantage.

The sergeant felt something course through her body. For a moment she had the urge to take her pistol out of its holster and blow her brains out.

“I’m not a lesser creature,” Sgt. Butcher muttered as she ignored the feeling. Instead she drew her pistol and double-tapped a swooping berbalang.

The aswang crashed to the ground in front of Hardhat.

“Soccer Kick!” She stove-in the berbalang’s face with a steel-toed boot. It took some effort to extricate her boot, so that she could hack the berbalang’s head off with her machete.

“Just shoot it, you’ve got salt rounds,” Two-toes said.

“Saving those for the tougher ones. Besides, that seemed to work fine,” Hardhat shrugged.

“Watch out!” Two-toes thrust her free hand out, while Hardhat dropped flat to the ground. “Fire Spray!” She caught two swooping berbalang in a wide arc of flame.

Two-toes squealed as she fell back.

The berbalang were on fire, but momentum being what it was they were still headed her way.

“Mage Shield,” Smores pointed a finger and a glowing dome shimmered over Two-toes.

The berbalangs crashed into it, shattering the shield, but coming to a stop a few feet from Two-toes.

“Kill them!” Two-toes screamed.

“You’ve got salt rounds too,” Hardhat muttered.

Two-toes blinked, looked sheepish and struggled to get her shotgun untangled from its strap.

“You’re the fucking worst,” Mouthy said as she rushed over and hacked at the berbalang with her machete.

“Incoming on your six, Smores, might want to hit the deck like the women,” Aims said calmly.

A handful of berbalang had identified Smores as a priority target.

“Enhanced Aim. Quick Hands.” Aims fired his revolvers.

They sounded like a machine gun.

He emptied and reloaded in a blur.

Firing twice in as many seconds.

The berbalangs were shredded by the barrage. Thoughts of Smores left their minds.

The ones without tattered wings flew away to regroup.

A few crashed to the ground.

“Ice Dart,” Smores hit one in the chest.

Another one lunged forward and clamped a clawed hand around his foot.

Smores yelled as sharp nails went through his boot.

The berbalang wrenched with an audible snap.

Smores screamed.

The berbalang pulled him closer to a waiting mouth filled with sharp teeth.

Smores raised a hand at the berbalang, but couldn’t muster the concentration due to the pain.

The berbalang leered hungrily.

Bang.

Its head exploded in a shower of red.

Sgt. Butcher rushed to Smores’ side. Planting shots in the other grounded berbalangs’ heads.

“They aren’t as damage resistant as the manananggal,” Smores said through grit teeth.

“I know you can’t walk, ranger, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cast spells,” Sgt. Butcher said.

“No, sarge, I mean, yes, sarge. Just need to catch me breath,” Smores said.

“Good, because looks like they’re massing for another go,” Sgt. Butcher said.

The berbalang flitted through the tree canopy.

The rangers had downed a handful, but more remained.

Garish shadows danced in the handful of light orbs the rangers had cast at the beginning of the fight.

Berbalang swooped out of the dark.

A clawed hand scored superficial scratches on Hardhat’s unnaturally tough hardhat.

The force of the blow knocked her down and her shotgun out of her hands.

Mouthy had already began moving to exactly where she needed to be to bury her machete into the berbalang’s chest.

The impact tore her weapon free, but Two-toes was ready.

“Magic Missile!” Two-toes screamed.

The berbalang dropped.

Aims put bullets through the heads of two other berbalangs diving at Two-toes exposed back.

Through another ranger’s eyes, Aims perceived a berbalang getting ready to drop down from the branches over head. “Piercing Shots.” Two bullets tore through branches as thick around as small trees.

Aims dived and rolled out of the way.

“Ice Spear.”

Smores impaled the berbalang through the stomach. Allowing Sgt. Butcher to put two bullets into its brain.

The rangers fought together like a well-oiled machine.

Almost too well.

They fired their weapons and spells at exactly the most impactful times.

They positioned themselves in nearly the perfect places to take advantage of optimal openings for attacks and to allow their squad mates to defend them, while then in turn defending the other.

The berbalang tried to cast their illusions, but something kept stopping them.

As their numbers dropped they turned to flee like Mr. Justino had trained them to do when in a losing fight.

But instead of simply flying away they attacked.

Was it just bad timing that the sergeant’s Skills ran out at the same time?

A berbalang swept down and crashed into Sgt. Butcher.

Teeth snapped at her face, bouncing off the nose guard of her helmet as the berbalang pressed its weight on top of her, wings buffeting.

More importantly, she had been forced away from the immobile Smores.

Another berbalang pounced on Smores, who barely got a magic shield up in time.

The shield began to crack and buckle as the berbalang pressed its sharp nails down into it.

“Someone help!” Smores begged.

“Not so calm now, you nerd,” Mouthy snapped, but tellingly she rushed over only for two berbalang to swarm her and slowly carry her up toward the tree canopy.

Aims cursed. “I don’t have a shot!” He shifted his aim to the berbalang attacking Smores.

“Look out!”

Two-toes cry was too late.

A berbalang tackled Aims from behind.

“Hardhat! Do something!” Two-toes yelped as she just managed to duck under a berbalang’s grasp.

“What? A shotgun isn’t exactly a precision weapon. I’ll hit them,” Hardhat said.

The rangers were in dire straits.

Then they heard the deep, booming barks of what sounded like a dog.