Adira was outmatched in everything. The young huntress was fighting a warrior king who killed the Demigod of Fire. Even the difference in combat experience was enormous. The girl panicked running around the platform and evading the confrontation, only trading a couple of blows with the menacing warrior.
She tried to lure him into an exchange she would favor. Her glaive was inferior in a one-on-one fight against a mobile sword. She needed to fight him at the distance, which was easier said than done. King Azalor struck harder, moved faster, had a larger mana pool, and had more vitality. Their class provided them with the same distribution of attributes. Naturally, a level 100 Godslayer will inevitably overwhelm the level 67 one with might alone.
Everything was a threat to Adira, the stat advantage in a prolonged fight, or a powerful attack that she could not block. That, however, was just the tip of the iceberg. The real threat lay in two skills that he had over Adira. The abilities could easily decide fights. A level 49 warrior will lose nine times out of ten against a level 50 warrior. A single unlocked skill could turn the tides.
Adira parried Azalor’s sword. The infinite night sky spread everywhere the eye can see lit up with sparks. She pushed the King back struggling to maintain the distance. Before she made a step backward, the man was already charging forward and catching her on the retreat.
Only yesterday the huntress got confidence in her strength. With the blessing of darkness and new skill, she was not afraid to fight anyone. Not even the arachne, because she knew she could win. This confidence was immediately shattered by a sword strike of the Forgotten King.
She parried and dodged his sword, desperately looking for an opportunity to impose a long-distance fight. The huntress thrusted her glaive aiming at his lower body. Her weapon swung to the side, deflected by the vicious strike at its edge. She had to block with the shaft of her weapon and quickly thread backward.
Even parrying his attacks, Adira could only admire the swordcraft of the man. How effortless for him it was to switch between defense and attack. His sword went a full circle, sneaking around her weapon, and attacked from the other side. Adira’s new armor saved her from a crippling strike. She was lucky to get away with a minor cut on her pauldron, one finger away from her neck.
Two Godslayers danced in the night, and only golden lights and sparks illuminated the platform they were fighting on. Their feet stomped on the thin layer of water, it jumped around, and froze in time, slowly coming down. Sparkles of two metal weapons biting at each other with their hungry edges flashed around, dying slowly as their life was stretched to an eternity in the “Odium Steps” time scale. In a short exchange, the two had, the whole place looked like a flower bed of blooming splashes that were illuminated by the blazing butterflies.
A sword thrusted in Adira’s face. She did not see it coming. Her head reflexively twitched to the side, and the edge only made a dent on the helmet. The girl lost her balance from the impact. Immediately both of her legs were cut through the greaves. A shallow cut, but it made her feel pain on every step.
She could only hope to stall the fight until the man ran out of mana. It was a weak point of her class. That is why she always carried a pouch full of mana potions. The bag that swung around her shoulder and threatened to fly away with every strike was her only chance at survival.
The girl fell back and quickly recovered her footing, expecting the continuous onslaught. King Azalor did not follow her. The pressure was relieved, but Adira could only shiver at what was going to come next. King Azalor stood enveloped in radiant flames. He charged forward, and a golden line of a “Sky Crusher” followed behind him. The girl prepared to jump to the side. The spell had the power for the Godslayer to run through her.
The Forgotten King jumped towards her headfirst, almost flowing parallel to the ground. The huntress ducked to the side, evading his path. Suddenly, the man hit the ground with his arm and flew past her swirling like a tornado. The way he moved changed the course of the skill. Adira thought it was only possible to aim it upwards, but a radiant wall of the “Sky Crusher” turned horizontally. Right towards the girl. She jumped trying to dodge, but it was too late. Flames slashed through her lower body letting her experience what it is like to be hit with this spell. Without the black armor, she would be surely split in half. Luckily, the girl got away with a large ring of burned flesh from her stomach to her back.
Before she even cried in pain the Godslayer appeared in front of her. His blade stabbed through her chest. Adira felt how her mana burned out, sucked through the sword. It was a “Mana strike.”
King Azalor pulled the sword back, spun around, and kicked her while in the air, sending the girl flying to the opposite end of the platform they were fighting on. The huntress only managed to hold onto her glaive until she hit the ground. She rolled down the rigid floor until finally got to a stop. In one exchange, the young huntress was utterly defeated.
“He cannot reach the island.” Skreetha looked at the sky with a scowl. Galen also watched expectantly. The huge island was slowly swallowed by a magic gate next to it. It would not take long for the whole island to appear on the other side of the world.
Salgos had jumped as high as possible. His body was now pushing through the air to reach the highland. The old hunter and the arachne realized that his might would not be enough. With how he jumped, he barely reached the clouds, and the island was much higher than that.
The Demigod fell with a loud thud shaking the ground half a minute later not being able to catch his target. A cloud of ash rose around him, covering everybody in an imperceivable screen of ashen smoke. The roar of frustration hit the air and quickly cleared the ash. Leaving an empty open field with an angry Demigod of Darkness in the middle. He turned to the group, and his eyes fixed on the two of his followers.
“We cannot let them teleport away from here! I will stop the teleportation if I can reach the island!” Galen felt the oppressive force that made him obey out of some primal instinct, but he held himself together. The man had some ideas on how to accomplish his goal, but he did not budge. There was no reason to step up onto his side now his plans were ruined. Seeing his hesitation Salgos turned his gaze to Skreetha. The arachne was not someone you could rely on for creative ideas. Not even wasting his breath on the monster, the Demigod peered into the hunter again but now without any pressure.
“Your friend must be teleported in one of the chambers inside. We need to hurry for her sake too.” Galen looked at the burned spot Adira was standing just moments ago. She simply disappeared out of existence together with the Godslayer King. The island slowly crawled away in the sky. For all he knew the Gods could teleport them somewhere with King Azalor and kill them one by one. Then was it better to work together with Salgos and save Adira? The girl was probably already dead. Still, he cannot find enough cruelty in his heart to say he is ready to abandon her. Reluctantly, Galen moved in to help the Demigod.
“Do you think you can pull it down from here if you get a hold?” They needed to act quickly. If it was impossible to reach the island, then maybe there was another way around it. Salgos was willing to listen to any suggestion. Galen looked around searching. “Skreetha, can you make a thread that can hold this island?”
The arachne stood silent. The man realized she is having the same hesitation he had. She did not want to help Salgos. The Demigod suddenly towered over her menacingly.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Answer him.”
“I have such thread, yes.” The monster lowered and quickly pulled threads from under her chitin. “But not much. We won’t be able to reach it from the ground.” She handed Galen a ball of thread that felt like it was made of metal.
“I do not have to be on the ground.” The Demigod of Darkness watched the island getting out of his grasp. “If I get to the surface, I can pull myself from the sky with the island in my hands.”
Galen nodded. It seemed like his plan might work. Briefly, they agreed on the details. The archer would attach the thread to an arrow. Salgos will launch himself in the air and catch the string. The only problem was that the thread was too short. The Demigod of Darkness needed to jump high enough to reach it.
Galen got into position and shouted for everyone to be ready, the time was short, already half of the island disappeared. Salgos roared, gathering energy. Standing close to him the man was pulled towards the source of power and he struggled to stay still. The Demigod jumped into the sky with all his might, additionally pushing himself with a pillar of darkness. The hunter was almost blown away, however he stood firm on the ground. He watched Salgos streamline through the sky. When the black figure reached a certain point, Galen shot an arrow adjusting it to the speed of the flying Demigod. The arrow flew past him and dug deeply into the stone underneath the island.
“He won’t make it” Galen frowned, looking into the sky. The thread was too short, it escaped the grasp of the Demigod and hung higher than he could reach. Skreetha’s eyes ran between the man and the deity. She whispered something to herself, clearly swearing. Then she turned to Galen, and he knew what she was going to say from her face.
“I have nothing to help him from here.” The arachne gritted her teeth. The man knew he would resign Skreetha to the certain death if he would not help. But it was the truth, there was nothing he could do to change the situation. It always pained Galen to investigate the faces of people who knew they were going to die, the first time he looked at a monster’s face with this feeling. Somehow, her gaze was resolute with some new unknown determination.
“Tell me, Galen, will you catch my fall?” That were the eyes of someone afraid of death, yet ready to face it. The old hunter felt hope she laid upon him in this one simple question. “If I go there and help him, will you catch me falling?” She repeated herself. Galen can only offer her the truth.
“I don’t think I can.” The displeasure he felt down on him harder than the desert sun on a lost traveler. The arachne shook her head.
“You always have the answer for everything. Please.” The man searched through the options he had but falling from such height was unstoppable. There must have been something he could do, Galen was sure of it. Never before had he had a situation where he could not escape. The man looked at Skreetha, and an idea came to mind that brought a smile to his face.
“I will need a thread that can hold your weight.”
“Any thread can hold my weight.” The monster jumped at his words feeling reinvigorated. She surrendered herself to the inevitable death and now was offered a straw of hope. That straw she would never let go. Even the march of time could not overpower this simple glimmer pulling her against all currents of destiny. The man also felt her rising spirits.
“Good. I would need a lot.”
They quickly organized themselves for another launch. Now Galen would push her forward with all the magic power he had. He let her know she should prepare for the jump. Time was of the essence.
He spoke with his final warning.
“Fall in your human form.” Then shot her upwards with a shadow pillar.
Skreetha rushed through the air, and it almost crushed her with its weight. She never imagined the air could be so heavy. Her legs withstood the pressure, she was ready to jump as soon as the pillar stopped moving. The earth disappeared, and the arachne struggled not to think about the height she was at.
As soon as she felt the magic expiring, she pushed with her legs. The combined power of the pillar pushed her through the sky and her powerful limbs shot her like a cannonball. She reached Salgos in an instant with enough momentum to kick him forward. He did not need a special invitation. Two cold metal feet pressed on the Skreetha’s abdomen, and the Demigod jumped off her with a violent power, that cracked her carapace. It was enough for him to disappear beyond the clouds.
The push from Salgos was so powerful she streamlined down to the ground. Her whole body shivered from the thought of being in midair at an unimaginable height. Skreetha was free-falling and in mind-breaking pain. There was no solution to stop either of those things. The arachne found herself screaming like a little girl, although the raging wind stole all the sound from her mouth. Somehow, despite the vastness of the sky, the monster found herself back in the hole trembling under Mother’s hunting gaze. Alone and terrified.
Her brain rushed around in search of anything to save her. The arachne was ready to swear loyalty to any God if they would promise her salvation. For her survival was everything. She did not know any other way of living. Only survival, constant race for power, grabbing what she can from the others, and making sure she will be victorious. That is how she defeated her mother and her brood. That is how she overcame countless attempts at her life and fought armies gathered against her. Skreetha was strong, and cunning, and never let herself be at a disadvantage. But now she was at the mercy of ruthless gravity. Falling to a certain death.
Just a moment ago she was resolved to do everything it takes. The arachne knew she could not run. The best way for her to survive was to help Salgos and avoid his wrath. Somehow it now seemed like a stupid idea. Her primal side told her she should have run.
As her mind searched for a way out, Galen’s words resurfaced. He will find a solution, and she must trust him. Trust was such an alien concept to her. Trust meant weakness, it meant that she left herself unguarded. Somehow, trust was her only savior at the moments when all hope was lost to pain and inescapable death.
Skreetha shut all her doubts and believed. She changed her shape into a human, spread herself wide, and shut her eyes to not see the ground. Only her heartbeat counted moments before crashing against the ground. When the wind raging in her ears stops, she will face the ground with all might of the fall.
The wind stopped. That single moment between the sound of her body cutting through the air disappearing, and her chest pressing onto the surface lingered in her mind for an eternity Skreetha will never forget. She hit the ground and went deeper and deeper inside.
Something soft drowned her fall, pleasing and familiar. It was her own web. The arachne opened her eyes. She found herself in the middle of a huge spider web strapped around twelve pillars made of darkness. It slowed her down, stretching towards the ground, on the verge of breaking, but holding up. The pillars lowered, overpowering the grip of the threatening velocity the arachne had gathered. Galen had caught her and now gently lowered her to the ground.
The moment of relief was quickly stolen by the mind-blowing pain numbing all other senses. Her disguise broke, releasing her spider form, as if she broke out of an eggshell. Skreetha lay on the ground with her abdomen torn, split apart from the impact of Salgos’s jump. Her heart still raced from the fear of the fall. Somehow, it was a familiar situation, except she was not alone now. Galen poured potions on her lower body. He noticed she was conscious and immediately pressed a potion to her lips. The healing liquid finally dispelled the agony. Exhausted, the monster looked at the sky with some unknown feelings building in her heart.
Salgos’s roar shook the sky. A black chain shot from the ground and streamed towards the clouds. It stretched as each ring pulled at each other with a rigid hold. The metal cried as it began to draw its owner to the ground. The Flying Island was nothing but a grey dot in the sky, partially swallowed by the magical gate. It stopped momentarily and began to move away from the teleportation circle. As if a prey pulled out of the mouth of a beast, the island was slowly pushed out of the gate. The dot grew bigger and bigger until it pierced the clouds, and the underneath of it became clearly visible.
The Demigod of Darkness wrapped by the chain appeared through the clouds. His arms were buried in the rocky stone of the island. He looked like an ant carrying the world on his shoulders. Galen had only seen the island once, and now it was approaching the ground, growing larger and larger until it grew to the size of the capital city. The Demigod kept pushing the island through the sky against its will. Finally, the land lost its ability to fly, and now gravity took its toll on the defiant land.
The Flying Island came crashing into the ground. Clouds of dust quickly blew around the plain as far as the eye could see. The earth trembled under Galen and Skreetha, they were almost blown away by the explosion that the island brought with its crash.
“They won't escape from me!” Salgos stood triumphantly at the bottom of the island. Two sentinels jumped from the high ground. Huge living stone statues with halberds the size of a mature tree. Galen collected himself after the earthquake and looked at Skreetha. She was still recovering, unable to move. The Demigod faced the guards of the island, materializing his war hammer. “Now let us introduce ourselves to our hosts.”