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Stellar Soulsaber - A Modern Progression Fantasy
Chapter 11 - Twenty-Seven Points

Chapter 11 - Twenty-Seven Points

It was chaos.

Val trudged through the marshy ends of the cove, pushing aside reeds to behold what would stick with her for some time.

Overseers, distinguished by the fervid red of their armband, winked into existence beside knocked-out participants, putting a hand on their shoulders and disappearing the next second. It was as if they glitched out of existence, one second there and the following moment they weren’t.

They gave no help to those they left behind, many near the edges of the battlefield splashing past Val as they rushed out as quickly as their legs could carry them. Nevertheless, fifteen remained at the center, with little hope of escaping from the angry Stormcrawler.

A spray of water coated the surviving adolescent Stormcrawlers as a burly Auricean charged through the waist-high waters, his battle cry pulling the three-starred lizard’s attention. A sphere of teal light coalesced at the end of its horn, the surroundings darkening as a whip of blinding lighting streaked over the vicinity.

Colour vanished from his face and he screamed, cradling his scorched arm, no different than overcooked firewood.

“Stay put!”

Val didn’t register the shout until after it left her lips. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach when Caro jumped the first layer of her cover, planning to use the fallen participant as a distraction.

Blind behind the rows of stones shielding her, surveying the manner the reptile's pupils swiftly swished over to her redhead was impossible. Instead, it narrowed in on Val for a mere second—viridian-green circles to yellow slits—determining her as the last of its priorities.

On six stocky limbs, it sped towards the closest of its prey, thrusting a horn through a girl’s brittle shoulder. Blood painted the lizard’s dark horn red as it shook her off, body submerging underneath it.

“I don’t see how we’re going to win this.” Jerel’s knee jittered and his eyes flitted about, trying to apply his vast knowledge to the situation. “This area’s practically perfect for the Stormcrawler—easy for it to move around while hard for its prey to escape. And if they do…”

“It’s got its Lightning Whip and Stormstomp,” Williams finished. “It’s bound to run out of aether, however; look at the numbers it has to dispatch.”

“We can’t wait that long, though,” Val said, her attention fixed onto Caro squeezing her long-limbed frame behind stones rivaling a dwarf in height. “If we want to beat that thing we gotta take it out of its playground, like we did with that Windsnapper earlier.”

“How, exactly?” Laura questioned. “It’s bigger than all of us combined and twice as fast.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Val muttered, brain moving as quickly as a train, unburdened by the plight of leadership. These were all suggestions, right? Her gaze hitched on one of the little Stormcrawlers. “Maybe lure is the better word, then.”

The gears began to churn, the skeleton of a plan hatching in her mind. “We have one of us coax it out first, using the trees as a buffer. Caro will be free to escape afterwards.”

“Now we’re talking,” Jerel nodded. “We have the bait—” he jabbed a finger towards the proximate baby Stormcrawlers “—where are we going to lead it to for a fight?”

“The forest? No,” Val corrected. As much as it would hinder the three-starred aether creature, it would hamper their own attempts as well. They needed a spacious battlefield, possessing obstacles to duck under and out interchangeably. A place that was similar to Vexal Prep’s EC-room, where less power didn’t automatically equal a loss. “Williams, how far did you scout?”

“Spent the past seven days scanning this entire stone mountain.” His chest puffed out, a sorry show of pride clad in a grey school uniform stained brown. “Describe a place and I’ll name it.”

“Perfect.” Val rubbed her hands together. “So we need a spot that is…”

Calm down, she told herself, picking at one of the scabs on her thumb. Every one of their five members carried a key duty doled out by none other than Val herself. It was time to carry out hers, alongside Jerel and Laura, as the net.

She winced as ice-cold water dripped off the cavern ceilings, slipping past her dual braids and infiltrating the depths of her scalp. Can’t wait for a hot shower.

Stalactites hung off the cavern roof like chandeliers, a direct mirror to the boulder-like stalagmites on the floor. The entire stone floor was riddled with them, simple for lithe, athletic participants to weave through, yet the same could hardly be said for the lumbering Stormcrawler.

Similar to Blue Cave, veins of teal light spun their way around the area, keeping the darkness at bay and allowing room for visibility. Lines of silhouetted insects crawled against the uneven walls, unknowing of the incoming fight.

The thud of boots and the sharp scrap of nails spilled into the small cave. Val readied her weapons—checking the clasps of her shield and firming her grip on her sword’s hilt. Laura notched the last of her arrows and Jerel brandished his shield, the defensive piece of metal hiding the entirety of his body,

Williams came sprinting in with three Stormcrawler infants in hand and took immediate cover. Val’s bones rattled as the Stormcrawler stomped in after him, looking around for its prey. Caro scuttled in at its tail twenty paces behind.

Laura released an arrow and it struck its array of blue scales, missing the Stormcrawler’s eyes by a hair’s breadth. It ricocheted harmlessly as if the arrow was a plastic toy.

Jerel rushed at the lizard, lance jutting out on top of his shield like a scorpion primed for an attack. The Stormcrawler skittered over to meet the challenge, crashing into one boulder after the next.

Val weaved between the stones, eyes widening as the aether creature managed to get the better of him. Possessing the ample reach of a seven-foot-long horn, it sliced through rock and clashed at Jerel’s side at an angle unaccounted for.

Bearing the strike in a disadvantageous position spurred an uncomfortable maneuver to his left. In the end, his shield skidded away on the ground slick with moisture. Shadows disappeared as a teal glow gathered at the end of the lizard’s protrusion.

“Switch!” Val stepped in front of her teammate and held fast to her defensive weapon. A clap of lightning struck her shield at its center, a disorientating ring slicing through her cold concentration. Her sight swam, double-vision debilitating her ability to parry the lizard’s next strike. It swivelled surprisingly well on six feet inside an enclosed space, a scaled tail lashing her.

She failed to bear the force of the strike, shield snapping back as her arms collapsed like a dry branch. Val paid no mind to the yellow-and-purple bruise blooming across her forearms, shuffling behind cover as Jerel regained his footing.

He shield-bashed the creature’s head and its neck whipped backwards. It hissed and shook itself, disoriented. Williams appeared from behind a stalagmite, slashing his shortswords across its legs in an arc parallel to the ground. While it hardly pierced the stone-like layer of scales, it paused to inspect the ant at its feet.

It didn’t so much as catch his shadow. Impressive, she had the time to think.

Laura loosed another arrow that bounced off its brow, turning the lizard’s attention to a separate corner of the cavern. Caro snuck past a boulder and twirled her greataxe at an angle straight for its feet.

She dislodged an entire set of toes on one of its limbs, though the injury seemed more an annoyance than a hindrance to the aether creature. A sharp pang rolled through Val where she hid, biding her time for an opportunity to strike. “Get back!”

The lizard stomped its injured foot, lightning running along the stone floor, carried by the few puddles on the ground. Spazzing out in seconds, what remained of the bolts rode up the boulders, dissipating before it ever touched Val.

Hissing, purple tongue out and about, the Stormcrawler stamped its feet continuously. Not even a buzz of lightning came out. It’s out of aether.

Val rushed to carry her shield, blanching as her bruised arm screamed at the additional weight. Abandoning her sword and taking up her shield using both arms, she darted straight for the Stormcrawler, alone in an area of razed boulders.

In the presence of no cover, it noticed her attack midway and faced her direction, horn and all. She braced herself and pressed onwards, shield up and legs moving. Mouth agape, she watched as the horn pierced the wooden structure, nicking her abdomen. Grimacing at the pressure mounting on her injured arm, she yelled, “Now, Jerel! It’s eyes!”

A shout escaping his lips, Jerel levelled his lance and blazed forward. The lizard spotted him, backpedalling in an attempt to retract its horn from her shield.

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“Oh no you don’t.” Val stepped up, pushing her shield up its horn and trapping it within the broken weapon. It waved its head and the bottom of her boots dragged along the floor, the lizard trying to shake her off. She stayed her ground, ensuring she bogged down the Stormcrawler’s notorious speed.

Jerel sunk his lance straight through one of its slit-like pupils. Upright for a few seconds, the Stormcrawler slumped to the ground in a heap. Val was carried along by its sheer mass and Jerel scrambled to unhook her from her shield, the two scurrying away from the body.

Seconds of silence stretched.

Relieved sighs and one whoop—belonging to Caro, of course—rang out as the golden patches emerged on the lizard’s scales. The Stormcrawler, three-starred and likely one of the most difficult aether creatures in their corner of Thunderstone, had been defeated.

By her plan, no less.

Unnoticed by Val, a piece of the confidence stripped away at Deduction Day pieced itself together in the recesses of her mind.

Caro let go of a dry chuckle, flopping to the ground, her greataxe clattering to the floor beside her. “I am never going to anger a mother of any species again.”

“Or run off without letting the rest of us know,” Williams chimed in.

“Hey, you were the one who said it was ripe for the picking,” Caro countered. “Not me.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you waltz in and—”

“Guys. People. Friends. Please.” Val raised a hand. “Some quiet would be highly appreciated.”

Val didn’t expect the request to go heard, a hush settling over the crew. An intangible sense of… something stretched outwards between the five participants. The fight could’ve gone the other way at a moment’s notice—they all knew it, too.

And here they were.

“Thanks.” Caro met every one of their gazes. “Seriously. You ever need anything, just hit me up.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Laura set down her bow against a stalagmite, a ghost of a smile crossing her face.

“We all will,” Jerel said, “and in reverse as well.”

“Not gonna lie though.” Fresh bruises ordaining her limbs, streaks of mud across her mess of a bun, uniform in shreds—Caro, seated cross-legged in a dank cave, grinned. “That fight was loads of fun.”

Williams shook his head and sheathed his swords. “She never runs out of energy, does she?”

Val grinned. “You learn to love it.”

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“Damn those midborns! Every last one of them!”

Isik kicked a random stone far into the forest, too angry to care who or what it could provoke. Only seven remained of his group, the rest either eliminated by the Stormcrawler or forfeited due to fright. Cowards.

The whispers gathered at the gates of his home last year edged into the curve of his ears.

Have you heard? The Tamaan’s heir is unbound at the age of nineteen.

Talent has ended in this generation.

Disgrace.

“Nonsense!” He plucked another pebble, chucking it skyward.

Tamaan blood ran in his veins, typics were his stepping stone, he was the heir of one of the Ten Major Families—and here he was, struggling in the midst of the Second Halo!

Isik’s eyes burned a livid blue, veins popping across his forehead. If he trumped the sum of the Second Halo’s best talent, despite not being to pass in his home-halo, who dared to say he wasn’t a prodigy?

No one!

And yet, here these midborn were, refusing to cow before their betters.

Nothing—absolutely nothing—could come close to the vexation he felt towards the red-haired one. She and her teammate may have taken the threat with them in their retreat, but the lizard made sure to attack everything it saw on its way out, including him.

Apart from making each transaction a headache with that, that unclean mouth of hers, she never stopped talking. Never. What was her name again? Carielle?

Then there was her friend, green-eyed and a head shorter. While quieter, she held more sway over both teams, making it a mission to convince his group to simply attack and be rid of the pest.

“If any of those midborns ever make their way into the First Halo, I’ll make their lives a living hell!”

“Uh, Captain…” his scout scratched at his head, gesturing to the remainder of the group. “Everyone here except for you is, uh, midborn.”

“I don’t care!”

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Val's stomach was flat against the forest floor, the undergrowth in front of her a mere inch above her head. The drone of the insects was thick and heavy, yet the sound barely registered to the girl, mind focused on the small expanse of grass seen through the bush's holes. She fiddled with the shortsword Williams lent her and kept her ears sharp for any sound.

"Last fight Valory." Jerel's remark came from a nearby tree, a sliver of his outline visible. "Let's make it a good one."

"Agreed."

A whistle speared through the forest's white noise. Though any other person would easily mistake it for a bird's mating call, she heard otherwise. The next second, he whistled back. Val discerned it in a moment.

Aether creature en route. - Williams

Understood. - Jerel.

Only three people could whistle out of the five of them. With two of the three being Jerel and Val, it wasn't hard to guess who initiated the conversation. The thought brought the resurgence of the argument Caro and Williams had at the fact that he could whistle and she couldn't. Children those two.

The rustle of fallen leaves reached her ears as Jerel shifted his weight in preparation to strike. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” And she meant it. Ten days spent doing the same thing made a person, if not an expert, more than the beginner they had been at the start. As the visage of a Thundertail broke out into the clearing—horns, lightning and all—Val narrowed her eyes. Still too far.

“I’ll lead it to you,” was all Jerel said before he disappeared into the forest behind her. Val continued to fiddle with the weapon barely longer than her forearm, her thoughts and attention never leaving the mature Thundertail.

A sound similar to metal hitting wood resounded near the jumpy aether creature. The beast flinched a mile high and ran in the opposite direction. A direction that led straight to Val. She smiled, gripping the leather hilt. Nice work, Jerel.

Once it drew within a five-metre radius, Val emerged from behind the bush and lashed out, cutting it in its throat. Hopping back to dodge its sweep of lightning-charged antlers, she switched to a reverse grip and darted past, slicing the throat in full. The Thundertail kept running for some time, its gurgles becoming louder. It took five steps before it went down, never to rise again.

A whistle caught her attention, but it lacked the patterns woven into their limited set of codes. “Trying to give Williams a run for his money?” Jerel teased.

“Not at all.” She knelt beside the corpse and sliced off an ear. “Far as I’m concerned, picking up a shield was the best choice I made in the last ten days.”

“Ten days,” a familiar voice added.

Val and Jerel turned to find the rest of their team ambling in, hacking away at the branches in their path. Williams straightened the shredded ends of his sleeves. “Flew by in a blink.”

“For you maybe.” Laura heaved a sigh. “Those first few days were a slog to get through.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it's over.” Caro grinned. “And that we’re well above the requirement.”

As if on cue, a horn blared, inexplicably bringing such a heavy bout of relief, Val’s form sagged as a large exhale left her. Caro’s grin broadened and she swept Val into a hug. “Hell yeah, V! Told you we could do it.”

“I—cough—I need air, Cee.” Val tapped for mercy on her best friend’s shoulder. “Air.”

“Oops.” She let her go, but the grin of delight was far too stubborn to leave her face. “We did it,” she whispered.

“Not yet, you did.”

Clad in an ebony attire, their conductor strolled into the clearing, face nearly unrecognizable. Without the need for protection for the past few days, he’d blended in amidst the shadows, pretty much absent. Thank the saints it’s not that shadow mage one.

Caro scratched at her head. “Huh?”

“We’ve yet to appraise and account for the points collected.” A smooth, circular device appeared in his palm as spoke, a smile spreading on his lips. “Who’s up first?”

“I’ll go.” Jerel stepped forward, plucking his crystalized collection of slain aether creature remains from within his cloak. “Uh… what do I do with these?”

“Merely place it on the device.” The conductor wiggled the object he balanced on one hand. “It’ll do the rest for you.”

Jerel dropped one glowing Thundertail ear on the pad. The number ‘1’ levitated above the device, blazing and humming at its use.

“All them at once, please,” the conductor requested.

Jerel placed the rest of his spoils, the number one ticking upwards and stopping at thirty-one.

The conductor nodded, impressed. “Jerel…”

“Imra,” he finished.

“Jerel Imra.” The conductor pressed onto the hidden rune etched onto his skin. “Thirty-one points. Considered a pass.”

Jerel’s eyes glistened. Val could only imagine the amount of effort, money and time spent on his previous failed attempts. It’s worth it now.

“Next,” the conductor called out.

“Twenty-nine points. Mikhail Williams. Considered a pass.”

“Thirty-six points. Carielle Hayes.” Both of the conductor's eyebrows rose as he looked over Caro. “Considered a pass.”

Caro winked at Williams. “Easy peasy.”

“Thirty points. Laura Stone. Considered a pass.”

Val placed her total winnings on the device, a slight sense she’d wake up from a dream in a cold sweat as the numbers ticked past fifteen. Her eyes found their way upwards, towards the tinted clouds, a sense of her parents smiling down on her.

Mom. Dad. I did it.

“Twenty-seven points. Valory Efron. Considered a pass.”