Chapter 78: A Historic Interruption
As a horde of about twenty lizard-avian hybrids with viciously sharp teeth and deadly looking claws stampeded their way down the grassy, rolling hill and headed straight for the spot where Zach stood beside Kalana and Fluffles, Zach couldn’t help but wonder if he should just accept this kind of bullshit as the new “normal” in his life. Really, there was no point in questioning it anymore. It was always going to be one thing or another, wasn’t it? If it wasn’t roller-skating zombies or crazed Elves, it was dragon-summoned, level-90 creatures that, come to think of it, looked quite a bit like that “dinosaur” thing one of the Elvish warriors had conjured in B6—only these guys were smaller, faster, and almost certainly a great deal deadlier thanks to their high level.
It doesn’t matter, he told himself. I need to protect Kalana and Fluffles no matter what level they are.
Zach gripped his new sword tightly in both hands, and with a deep inhalation of breath, he gathered together all of his strength and courage. Kalana was standing directly to his right, and Fluffles was to his immediate left. Right now, the cat was hissing, his claws unsheathed. Kalana had removed both of her daggers and stood in a fighting stance with her knees slightly bent and her left foot leading her right. She trembled slightly with what Zach took to be fear, but he did not think it was out of concern for her own life. He could tell this from the way her eyes kept darting over to him. Zach, too, did not feel terror for himself; no, the only thing that frightened him was the idea of something awful happening to Kalana.
“What level are you, Kal?” he asked her. “Still 65?”
“I’m level-66 now,” she said.
“What about your dad?”
“Still 73.”
Eldora had been keeping a mostly low profile up until this point. He’d been hanging around the vicinity of Kolona while she healed Grundor. Now, however, Zach could see him trying to assess the situation. Looking back and forth between his daughter and his niece, he was likely wondering if he should rush over to Zach and Kalana or stay and defend Kolona, who was about to be attacked by one of the beasts—the only one to have broken away from the pack. Kalana, as though noticing her father’s dilemma, gave voice to her own opinion on the matter.
“Protect Kolona!” she shouted to him. “We’re okay!”
“No! Protect Kalana!” the Elvish girl yelled back. “I’m fine!”
Eldora, faced with an impossible choice, seemed to trust in his daughter as he threw himself forward and engaged the lone “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth” that had been about to attack his niece. This, as dirt began to rise like steam, trailing behind the feet of the twenty mobs that were rushing towards Zach and Kal.
Flooded with power and confidence, he somehow did not lose his nerve despite the fact that this was as precarious a situation as any he’d been in. Both he and Kalana were entirely too low level to be facing off against level-90 creatures—hell, they all were. Zach didn’t care how powerful the Elves were respective to their levels—there was no way Kalana was going to be able to handle creatures that were level 90, and the same could definitely be said for himself, Eldora, and maybe even the GSG. Even still, he felt so much stronger and more alive in Kalana’s presence. His internal desire to protect her exploded within him and gave him a level of motivation that he rarely felt otherwise—which was good, because right now, he was really going to need it.
In just a few seconds, the level-90, bipedal creatures had crossed more than half the distance between them. Yet despite how rapidly they moved, it almost seemed slow when compared to the lightning-quick speed of the Elves, who could run so fast it looked like they were teleporting. Zach would easily be able to react to the oncoming rush of these monsters; really, the only question was how he should go about doing it. For the time being, he reasoned his best bet would be to use Phase Shield to protect and repel them, as they appeared to be intent on slamming into the three of them. From there, he could possibly use Phase Blink and Phase Rescue to get Kalana and Fluffles far away. Then he could rush back into the fight and try to save as many adventurers as he could.
Good plan, he thought to himself. We’re going to be just fine.
Bending his knees slightly, he monitored their movements very closely while waiting for just the right time to call forth his shield. “Stay close to me,” he said to Kalana, who shot him a puzzled look. “Just trust me.” She nodded, and then he drew and held his breath.
Since Phase Shield would only remain in existence for exactly 1.2 seconds, the timing had to be perfect, or else it would either arrive too late or vanish too soon. That was why, even as Kalana tensed up as the horde of mobs grew uncomfortably close, Zach still did not activate his ability. The fact that she remained right where she was, however, meant a great deal to him: because it meant she trusted him. Fluffles, too, seemed content to hiss but otherwise remain put.
Almost…
Closer and closer they came, kicking up more dirt and grass as they rushed towards Zach, their mouths opened widely and hungrily. When less than a quarter of a second remained before impact, Zach realized it was finally time to call his shield. And so now, bracing himself for whatever portion of damage would be returned to him, he decided to activate Phase Shield—and then he stopped at the last possible millisecond as the entire world before him lit up with an intensely bright light that shined brighter than the sun.
Even with his sword in his hands, he lifted up his weapon so that he could maneuver his forearm in front of his eyes and block some of the light from irritating his eyes. Kalana, too, shielded her face, and Fluffles complained loudly. Yet after only a few seconds, the light dimmed then vanished entirely. Now, all twenty mobs—every single last one of them—were remaining perfectly, completely still about fifteen feet in front of Zach while the dust they’d kicked up began to slowly settle.
“What the fuck?” he whispered. “Kal, what just happened?”
She smiled. “They’ve been mesmerized.”
“Mesmerized?”
She nodded. “It’s a type of crowd control that makes them stay really still unless you touch them or mess with them, so don’t go doing that!”
Zach was astonished. “They hit all twenty at once.”
“You bet your butt I did,” Alixa said, running over to them. She carefully navigated around the beasts as though very, very worried she might accidentally touch one of them. Only now did Zach realize that each of their faces was glowing white while a melodic, buzzing sound that he could only just barely hear was resonating from the area above their skulls.
“That’s amazing,” he said.
“I’m the only one in the entire GSG who can use an AOE—ah, area of effect—mass-mesmerize spell from a distance.” She was panting slightly. Whatever she’d done, the exertion cost must have been fairly high. Behind her, the adventurers were slowly beginning to carefully position themselves such that they surrounded the twenty mobs while forming into smaller sub-groups, with each containing a tank and a healer.
“Zach, why haven’t you joined our raid group yet?” Mr. Oren asked him. “It’s important for coordination.”
“Oh, sorry, I forgot.”
“Well, hurry up and join, my man. And don’t ever share the information you see with anyone else.”
“Information?”
“Just join!”
Not wanting to make a fool of himself by asking another stupid or obvious question, Zach merely “guessed” that these “raid groups” were joined the same way as any other group, and so, mentally, he consciously made the decision that he was in the same raid group as them, and just like that, it became true in reality as well as in his head. Now, the world around him changed once again, and in a far more significant way than he had expected. It was to such an extent that he was momentarily taken aback. He quickly came to understand what Mr. Oren had been warning him about, as at every person he looked, he could now see their full name, their guild, and most significantly, their level, floating just above their heads.
Name
Alex Oren
Guild
Level
61
Name
Donovan Iseldar
Guild
Level
72
To Zach’s utter incredulity, Donovan Iseldar was the only human present with a level higher than 70. Everyone else was either in the 60s or very high 50s. Even Maric, who Zach was pretty sure was the oldest of the bunch, was only level 68. For this reason, Zach could only assume that leveling-up became dramatically slower once someone—or a human, at least—went beyond level 59. In all fairness, Zach sort of knew this would be the case, as he’d long-since noticed that the amount of xp required to level-up became steeper disproportionally to the xp gained from mobs with each level he’d gained, making it take longer and longer. It probably really started to slow down around that point.
Will I ever catch up to Kal? he wondered, a bit of his optimism draining away.
Returning his attention to the other adventurers, he watched as they continued to discuss how they would handle these “adds,” as they were called. And although there was definitely a great degree of urgency in their voices, they nevertheless spoke calmly and productively.
“I’ll take three of these on at once,” Maric said. “But I’ll need a capable healer.”
“I can handle two,” Donovan said with a grunt. Then he swore. “We didn’t bring enough tanks with us. Spider, you’ll have to hold aggro on at least two as well.”
Zephyr spoke next, and when he did, he used a number of terms that Zach had not before heard but did not want to embarrass himself by asking aloud what they meant. Fortunately, however, Kalana, who was still right next to him, began whispering explanations into his ear.
“Whatever we can’t tank we’ll have Alixa and two other enchanters keep locked down under a rotation of fear, root, and slow. If that still isn’t enough, I’ll peel off Donovan so he can AOE stun the rest. Even that’ll only buy us a few more seconds, so we’re going to need to be quick about it.” He grinned. “Should be no problem, folks, huh?”
As the other adventurers let out a morale-raising cheer, Kalana informed him what all that gibberish had meant. Some of the things, like fear, he knew from Rian, as well as stun. The rest were new to him. Apparently, a “root” meant something that would hold an enemy in place without fully incapacitating it. Basically, it pinned them in one spot while leaving them open to take actions, such as biting someone who walked within range of their teeth. A slow, on the other hand, was exactly what it sounded like: something that physically slowed their movement. And a “peel” meant for someone to take aggro off one person and put it onto themselves, such as the way Grundor had “peeled” Ziragoth off Olivir.
Now that he fully understood their plan and the problems associated with it, Zach could see that they would still come up short. There were just too many of the mobs. Pressing his lips together, he closed his eyes for the briefest of moments then exhaled. “Fuck it,” Zach said, reopening them. “I’ll take on six of them. That should free up a few people to help elsewhere.”
For whatever reason, Zach’s words caused the other adventurers to stare at him in a mixture of disbelief and in some cases frustration as though annoyed. “What’re you fucking nuts?” Donovan asked, shaking his head.
“I can probably take more than that, to be honest. Look at their legs and claws. Their attacks will be really, really easy to predict.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t you…don’t you see it?” he asked them, finding only confusion on their faces. “Look. I’ll just show you.”
They all let out a cry of warning and distress, and in some cases angry threats as Zach swung his sword with all his might, slashing his blade across the face of the nearest “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth” and only managing to do a paltry 1,200 damage to the ridiculously higher-leveled foe. As though breaking free of whatever had bound it, the two-legged, lizard-like mob let out an angry chirp and dashed forward at him.
“Zach!” Kalana shouted with a gasp. “What in the name of the Gods are you doing?”
“Why would you do that?” Mr. Oren asked, frowning.
Zach ignored them both and focused. The moment the creature reached him, he keenly and easily observed the way it shifted its weight from its left leg to its right while beginning to open its mouth. Clearly, this thing was going to spin around in a half-circle while snapping at him. Seeing this, he bent his knees, twisted his hips, and ducked down at an angle, ensuring that the mob snapped only the air. Then he kicked off his front foot and dashed backwards as it swung at him with its right claw. He knew that getting hit even a single time was death: but he wasn’t overly intimidated by these mobs.
If there was one thing that Zach had learned early on, it was that relying solely on dexterity to avoid attacks was not a great idea. Although dexterity increased coordination and reaction speed, there was still a pretty big gap—in terms of speed—between reacting to something and anticipating it. Thus, while the mob pursued him and entered into something of a biting frenzy, chomping at him again and again while whipping its head around with considerable haste, Zach was easily able to get himself out of the way of each attack.
“See?” Zach asked, ducking beneath another claw swipe and leaping off to the side to maneuver around a follow-up bite. “These mobs aren’t that bad.”
“How…are you doing that?” Donovan asked, which only furthered Zach’s confusion.
“It must be some kind of ability,” Mr. Oren said.
Spider chuckled. “It’s not.” He nodded his head at Zach. “I could tell from our fistfight in Angelica’s that he has the same natural talent I do. He just sees it like you guys don’t.”
“Sees what?” Kesten asked, earning nods of agreement from several of the other adventurers, including Zephyr, Donovan, and Mr. Oren.
“Wait, seriously, do none of you see this?” Zach asked, even as he spun around another swipe of the creature’s claw, then leapt over a swing of its tail, jumping a tad bit higher into the air than he’d intended. No matter: it afforded him the opportunity to slash his sword downwards as he returned to the ground, leaving just a shallow gash on the creature’s scalp and dealing a meager 1,724 damage. This wasn’t great. How the hell was anyone going to kill these things? He hoped the others, who were far higher level, could put out significantly more damage, because otherwise, these mobs were not going to die.
HP
297,076/300,000
Name
Cursed Defender of Ziragoth L
Level
90
“I see it,” Spider said. “Right-swipe, tail swing. Duck. That’s right, kid. You got it.”
Donovan and Mr. Oren looked at one another, and then finally, it was Mr. Oren who made the call. “I still don’t get it, but you can take on two at the most. Kalana, can you handle one of them?”
“Oh, you better believe I can!” Kalana replied immediately and cheerfully.
“No way in fucking hell,” Zach growled immediately afterwards, even as he bent backwards to avoid another swipe of the monster’s claws. Acting off reflex, he then raised his brand-new blade horizontally to block a follow-up, downward slash, and this turned out to be a huge mistake. Up against something that was level 90, he should have known better than to try guarding against an attack. The moment of impact, his weapon was not only knocked right out of his hands, but it was blasted several-dozen feet away while sending a tremendous shock into both his wrists.
“Fuck!” Zach shouted as every adventurer, along with Kalana, opened their mouth, likely to ask if he was okay. Zach was very quick to dismiss their concerns. “I’m fine!”
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Before they could challenge him on it, he spun his body around, fully turning his back to the enemy, then activated Phase Blink, dashing forward so fast that he could not even feel the motion. He simply noticed the world changing around him. Even before the sonic boom went off like a bomb in the air behind him, he spun around, raised his hand, caught his sword, and then activated Phase Blink a second time, reappearing exactly where he’d been a mere instant ago—and just in time to lean his body to the right and avoid a bite from the Cursed Defender he’d aggroed. This, as every adventurer other than Donovan and Mr. Oren flinched on the heels of two massive, subsequent sonic booms. Even Kalana got down to her knees and raised her arms defensively while making a cute-sounding “eek!”
“Sorry,” he said, expecting to receive several angry glares from the adventurers. But this time, however, it earned him only chuckles and nods.
“Wh-whatever you guys are going to do, please figure it out quickly, because my mesmerize is only going to last another ten seconds,” Alixa said.
“Do you need me to come down there?” Olivir called, shouting out his words while looking down the hill at them; this, while he continued to channel whatever magic was generating such a massive volume of purple mist, much of it still rising up into a similarly colored cloud in the sky.
“No! Do not stop what you’re doing!” Mr. Oren shouted back to him. “We have it covered down here. You have my word. Keep going the way you currently are, Olivir, and Eldora, please continue protecting Kolona, as she’s the zombie’s only healer.”
“You got it,” Olivir said, once more facing the dragon, who was continuing to partake in its vicious back-and-forth with Grundor. It was still looking at Zach, too. And it was angry. For sure it was. Zach no longer cared what the other adventurers said. The thing knew who he was—Fluffles had basically confirmed it. And it didn’t like him. Which, you know what? That was just fine, because Zach hated Ziragoth way more than Ziragoth hated Zach.
“All right, the mesmerize is about to wear off,” Zephyr said. “Everyone know what to do?”
Zach grunted. “I don’t want Kalana taking one of them on.”
“Too bad,” she said, sticking out her tongue at him. “I’m gonna.”
With that, she raced forward, turned her wrists and elbows, and then used both daggers to simultaneously slice the throat of one of the two-legged defenders frozen before her, dealing 21,650 damage and “awakening” the dormant beast in the process. Immediately, and with a grace that Zach had never before seen from her, she launched herself into the air, backflipping over a vicious swipe from the angry-looking mob, then blasted forward and delivered a dizzying combination of dagger slashes, each one dealing thousands of damage.
Zach was so amazed that he nearly lost his head, only just managing to dodge an attack while he watched Kalana make very real progress in chipping away at the mob’s HP. She struck with such speed and ferocity that, in just three seconds, she’d delivered 6 one-two combinations to the mob for a total of 12 strikes. Zach observed in a state of fascination as the damage numbers filled the air so fast that he was only just able to read them.
10,400, 5,000, 8,200, 7,800, 6,153, 6,150, 7,151, 5,951, 11,255, 8,511, 8,255, 11,761, 9,100, 7000
Each time Kalana struck, a wad of puke-green blood would fly off the creature’s body, and upon finishing her flurry of attacks, the creature chirped angrily and tried to bite her face off. Kalana dashed backwards, then planted her feet into the ground and came to a halt. With that, she threw her left arm forward, and from a distance of about ten feet, she pointed her dagger at the beast, shouting, “Val en Comme Gria!”
Instantly, eight massive shadows emerged from what had just been an empty, cloudless sky. Risking a glance above him, Zach spotted huge, brown-colored, and flaming rocks in the air, which he took to be some kind of magically summoned comets. Then, one after the next, each of these comets blasted through the air fast enough to create a loud, screeching hiss before exploding down on top of her target, causing the ground to shake and dirt to spray, a fair bit of it nearly getting in Zach’s eyes and a great deal covering the front of his tunic. The mob she fought was pummeled one after the next, filling the world with loud blasts as each one made impact and struck for over 20,000 damage.
20,100, 20,432, 20,199, 21,600, 23,000, 20,000, 20,010, 20,150
HP
18,261/300,000
Name
Cursed Defender of Ziragoth L
Level
90
Leaping forward, flipping, and twisting her body midair, Kalana managed to turn her head in Zach’s direction and again stick her tongue out just as she landed in a crouch, spun around in a circle, and again swung her daggers simultaneously, ripping apart the mob’s midsection and spilling out its guts for 27,310, finishing it off and causing it to fall onto its side, where it lay for several seconds until finally disappearing into the grass. Upon vanishing, it left behind nothing but the eight craters in the ground; unlike other mobs, with these ones, not even the splashes of blood that had been spilled remained.
+9500xp (38000 – 75% 10+ party penalty)
Zach was surprised to see himself receiving experience points for the work Kalana had done. Even with a 75% reduction, that was still a massive amount for someone at his level. Distantly, he wondered if that counted as power-leveling. He supposed not, since he was an active contributor to this raid even if he couldn’t put out the kind of damage that Kalana just had. If nothing else, he was able to significantly reduce their burden. He couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of Kalana, though. As usual, he was hit by a sense of mixed feelings: of being proud to see that the girl he loved was so awesome and strong, but of not liking how weak it made him feel by comparison.
Given that he’d challenged her capabilities publicly, he wasn’t surprised to see her brush past him with a smug look on her face. “Okay, you made your point,” Zach said to her.
Even while he was busy stepping around numerous, aggressive claw slashes aimed at his face, Kalana came to an abrupt halt by his side, leaned over, went, “mwah,” and kissed him playfully on the cheek before saying, “Love you,” and bursting forward to get started on another mob—the one Zach had been supposed to take on. This, as all the other adventurers got to work and began either aggroing mobs of their own or using fears to send them scattering in completely random directions. Unfortunately, however, it became immediately and abundantly clear that not even Donovan was capable of outputting the kind of damage that Kalana could. To be sure, he did a lot more than Zach, but it was still nothing compared to Kal.
For one, Donovan wielded a massive, double-bladed battle-axe that he swung slowly and with a grunt each time he attacked, such as right now, cracking it across the face of a “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth” for 30,152 damage. Though the number itself was higher than anything Kalana had been able to achieve with her daggers, his girlfriend could strike the dragon nearly ten times for every one that Donovan managed. Only Mr. Oren, standing to the side and using his conjured blade to rip flesh away from the lizard-like monster for around 17,000 a slash, seemed capable of keeping pace with Kalana, though Zach had the impression he was holding back so as not to pull aggro.
Secondly, Donovan was not capable of dodging or avoiding attacks in the way that Zach—and also Kalana, it seemed—was able to do so. Whether it was because the weight of his black plate armor reduced his mobility or just because he lacked the ability, the result was the same: lots of groans, even more blood, and a constant influx of healing magic pouring into him as he withstood an incredibly painful-looking barrage of bites and scratches from two of the creatures he was tanking.
The others were faring even worse. Although Maric was doing the best job of the bunch in terms of tanking—absorbing the vast majority of hits on his gigantic, red-and-black tower shield—he was simply not putting out enough damage to keep the mobs interested in him. And one, Zach now saw, had fully turned around and seemed intent on charging one of the healers.
“Lyania!” Maric cried.
She turned around just in time to see the frenzied mob rushing towards her on its two, fast-moving feet, once again kicking up dust even as it traveled the very short distance between them. If Zach had not been there, she would have certainly died. The mob reached her, opened its mouth, and then snapped it shut—biting only air as Zach activated Phase Rescue and brought her to his side. He watched as her body was shrouded in a blue light, which shrank into nothingness before reappearing beside him—her along with it.
“You’re incredible!” she chirped. Now, she too gave him a kiss on the cheek. And though she was a much, much older woman likely in her late 60s, it nevertheless elicited a frown from Kalana along with a glare. He rolled his eyes at her. Seriously, the woman could be his grandmother.
I kind of like the fact she got jealous, though, Zach thought, suppressing a snicker.
Rather than return to where she was before, the woman, whose name Zach assumed to be “Lyania,” began immediately healing Maric once again while remaining right where she now stood by his side. Zach supposed the urgency of the situation was such that she could not afford the time required to move back into position. This ended up working to their benefit, however, as the mob she’d aggroed, “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth M,” began darting right through the middle of the crowded section of this grasslands-turned-battlefield and continued to head her way, becoming temporarily obscured as it blended in with the other mobs and adventurers that were battling one another.
“Don’t worry,” Zach to her. “I’ve got it.”
“You sure?”
“Yup. Let me handle it, okay?”
“If you need a heal, just shout!”
Zach laughed. “If I need a heal, I’m probably already dead.”
Switching his grip on his new blade so that he held it in just his left hand, Zach jumped off to the side as the mob he was fighting lunged forward. The result was that it overshot and gave him a few feet of distance as well as a second or two of breathing room to concentrate and aim his blasting ring at the approaching mob, which he could not let attack the healer. Now, he made a fist with his right, and he waited for the moment the “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth M” emerged from the cluster of people and mobs and continued to head straight for the woman.
Here goes nothing, Zach thought, taking one final moment to ensure his ring was lined up perfectly with his target.
Reminding himself that he had 125 points into intelligence right now and that the ability he was using was a real fucking doozy, he planted his feet into the ground, fully braced himself, and made absolutely certain that he consciously exerted his strength so that his blasting ability would not also blast him away, too. When he’d used this ring against one of the Elves, he’d been in Phase Level 1 and it had sent him flying. He needed to make sure he did not let that happen again. He also needed to make sure he did not hit anyone else by mistake. Confident he had everything under control, he gritted his teeth and prepared to fire.
Here we go!
Zach activated the ability—and then cried out in both shock and disappointment as, despite all his precautions, he simply was not able to negate the overwhelming force that launched him in the opposite direction the moment he fired. Releasing a gasp, he watched as a red, blindingly bright beam so ridiculously huge that it was larger than the tunnels used to transport DEHV trucks materialized in the world before him with a loud, cartoonish PEW-PEW!
Kalana, Mr. Oren, Donovan, the woman he’d saved, and several adventurers looked at him with awe and confusion in their expressions as he was sent flying at a tremendous speed back in the direction of the camp: as in, several-hundred miles per hour. This, as he just had enough time to see the number 211,345 appear over the head of the mob, which itself was blasted at an even greater speed in the direction of Ziragoth. Yet, despite this, with a finesse and skill that filled Zach with envy, Mr. Oren leapt high into the air and began slashing wildly with his sword, finishing off the creature and leaving it in multiple pieces. The final sight to grace Zach’s eyes was a +9500xp as he flew at a horrifying, uncontrollable pace across the grassy, hilly terrain.
Having blasted himself off from the highest point, he remained in the air at an altitude that one would expect from a low-flying helicopter. He began to scream in terror as he realized this was a ridiculously, unnaturally long time for a person to remain airborne. The wind beat against him, and for the first time, he did not feel so intensely hot. He was moving so fast that the grass and rocks rushing by below him appeared to form a single, continuous, and blurred line. He had no control over any of this: he was completely at the mercy of physics and gravity.
Eventually, finally, he began to descend, slowly at first—and then faster and faster until he plummeted the rest of the way like a cannonball. With a bang so loud that he refused to believe it had come from his own body, the entire world became blurred by a dark brown screen that encompassed everything around him, which he took to be dirt. For a brief moment, it became the only sight he could see.
Then he noticed a spinning, abstract mess of colors and shapes, and it took him a moment to realize he was rolling—fast. Really fast. He heard a shout, followed by another shout. Then a snap. Finally beginning to slow down, he let out a humiliated yelp as he realized he’d somehow blasted himself all the way back to the fucking raid camp, and he was now bulldozing his way through tent after tent. By the time he had any semblance of where he was or what was happening to him, he’d already completely obliterated five different tents, tearing them all down, as well as destroying any number of benches, couches, wooden chairs, all kinds of furniture, a handful of viewing screens, and even a couple of beds.
His body ached—terribly. But not as bad as it should have, all things considered. When he finally stilled, he could hear the sounds of people rushing over him to him, calling out his name, asking him if he was all right. Several of them he recognized, such as Reni Sarwin and Peter Brayspark. But he could not see them. In fact, he could not see anything except the top of another tent. Wait, was he indoors now? When had that happened? He shook his head, the sensation of spinning and dizziness disorienting him. Why did the ground feel so hard and solid?
Th-that’s not the ground! he thought nervously. Oh, Gods, please tell me I didn’t…please fucking tell me I’m not…
Coming back to his senses, the world stopped spinning, and Zach croaked as he realized where he was. Right now, he was lying on a massive table large enough to seat dozens of people comfortably: one that was made out of a type of wood more expensive than anything someone like him was ever meant to see, let alone touch. There were papers everywhere, some of which were torn and ripped as he’d rolled over them. And all around him were the leaders of the political guilds: the most famous, important, and well-known members of humanity. And they were all looking at him.
Zach glanced around in a state of humiliation, shock, and abject fear. He was so confused. So nervous. So unable to know what to do or say. Should he apologize? Should he try to explain? Why weren’t they watching the media’s broadcast so that they would know what was going on? Shouldn’t they at least be aware of how things were progressing in case Ziragoth killed them all and marched on the camp? Apparently, they actually were, because on a gigantic viewing screen above and to the left of him, he saw everything that’d just happened to him mere seconds ago.
Oh, Gods, the entire world is gonna see this shit!
On a several-second delay, the media had captured every moment of it. Zach saw himself unleash an absurdly huge beam into one of the mobs, which Mr. Oren was able to finish off. Then he saw himself flying across the grasslands and—oh, wow. He’d apparently crashed straight through a section of the fortification they’d built, blowing a hole in the wall. He hadn’t even felt that. Then he saw himself land, and from the media helicopter’s aerial view, what followed was the sight of him leaving a streak in the ground similar to shovel running through a flat section of snow. There was just a gigantic, half-a-mile trail that ran all the way from the spot he’d landed to where he was now. With a nervous gulp, he saw himself rolling and bouncing into the fancy central command tent where the most important people on Galterra had gathered together.
Now, a woman seated at the head of the table across from him lowered a small tablet-shaped device and frowned.
“Having a bit of trouble, young man?” Fylwen asked him.
Zach opened his mouth, but no words would come out. He couldn’t believe what he’d done. This wasn’t his fault. This wasn’t intentional! This wasn’t even something he could have prevented, as he’d needed to aggro that second mob. Wait…but what about the other mob he’d aggroed? His eyebrows raised to the top of his face.
“Oh shit!” he shouted in front of the most dignified and significant human beings on the planet. “The fucking…the fucking mob is—”
With a loud chirp, the avian-reptile-dinosaur-looking monstrosity came dashing into the central command tent and jumped up onto the table where Zach was lying then began darting across it, ripping up more papers, knocking over plates, fancy beverages, and a few commemorative coins that had somehow been created in such a short time to celebrate whatever it was that was happening here.
“I’m so, so sorry!” he yelped. Still in a lying position, he rolled backwards until he was on his stomach, then continued along with the motion until he was upright in a sitting position. Then he slid backwards off the table and allowed himself to fall onto his back while kicking out with both feet, causing a tremendous series of bangs and booms as the mob was thrown, along with the table, out of the tent while everything on top of it spilled onto the floor.
“My name is Rian Astafort, by the way,” Zach said, nodding at the leaders of humanity as he darted out of the tent in total shame and humiliation, charging straight at the monster even as hundreds of adventurers all grabbed their weapons in unison.
The Cursed Defender of Ziragoth made a quick, sudden lurch in his direction, snapping at his neck. Zach, having only just exited the large, fancy tent, was still a bit disoriented. Luckily, he managed to leap into the air and over the creature, landing on the other side of it. Then he swung at it—with nothing. Where the fuck was his sword?
“Déjà vu,” Fylwen said with a laugh, exiting the command tent and holding his weapon.
Zach hated this woman more than anything in the world, but he was so filled with humiliation, disbelief, and shame that he could not help but burst out into laughter as she tossed it at him. He caught it. “Thanks. I never thought I’d be in a situation like this ag—”
The creature snapped at him, and he was forced to close his mouth and spin around to his left. He was still a great deal off balanced from his “flight” over here and subsequent rolling. For this reason, he tripped, and now he knew it would cost him heavily. His head was so fogged up and his stomach so nauseous that he momentarily forgot he could use Phase Shield until it was too late and the bipedal monster was about to slash his throat with its claw.
Then it paused—its claw hovering mere inches in front of his face. And without rhyme or reason, it slowly lowered it, then spun around. Now, it charged at Queen Vayra, whose entire body was glowing and whose shortsword was releasing short, intermittent sparks of bright red-colored electricity. Shaking his head, Zach tried to determine if what he was witnessing could possibly be true. Had Fylwen Vayra actually taunted the mob for the purpose of saving his life? After everything that she’d done to him? Why would she?
Whatever the reason, she began ripping the beast apart—joined soon after by an uncountable number of adventurers who all wanted a piece of the action. It died so quickly that half the camp was still on their way over as it went down. For whatever reason, Zach received no experience points, but he didn’t care, either. At least it was dead. He turned his head to look northeast in the direction he’d come. He was surprised to find that he could still see every member of the raid party, even from this distance. Though he could not see their bodies with any measure of detail, he could see outlines of them as a sort of green blur—even through solid objects, such as a tent just off to his immediate right, as well as the massive fortification that had been constructed that he’d accidentally damaged a section of.
“How come you guys aren’t helping? You’re watching the news, right?”
“We were ordered not to,” an adventurer he did not recognize said. “The goal is to fight the dragon using our defenses. If you guys failed, we aren’t supposed to interfere. If we all go, we risk all wiping, and then who is left to defend us?”
Zach rubbed his face. “Okay. Gotcha. Whatever. I’ve got to get back. I think I’m okay now.”
The guild-leaders exited the command tent and began silently staring at him, saying nothing. He’d seen each and every one of them on TV so many times that witnessing them in person was just too much for him to handle. He recognized all of their faces, including…oh, Gods, Kolorn Besh was here! The most important member of humanity by far. He was the guild-leader of the Lords of Justice and the chief representative of humanity. His guild ran the UCH: the United Council of Humanity, or basically, the capital of humanity in the Slopes of Dal’Zarrah.
He was a short, slender-looking guy. He was bald save for a thick, black, bushy goatee, and he was old, with a wrinkly forehead and a chapped lip. Yet he had sharp eyes, which Zach thought he could actually feel evaluating him. Not able to bear even a moment of it, he stupidly “waved” goodbye, his hand shooting out burning embers. “I have to…I have to get back. Sorry!”
As he rushed out of the camp and made his way back to the others, he couldn’t help but wonder how many people on this planet had just watched his little “stumble.” Chances were likely it was every single one of them. Or almost all. Why the fuck did they have to broadcast this live? All his life, the guilds had pushed censorship and restrictions, except the one time it would save him some embarrassment. He was now going to have to put on a real show for them to make up for how badly he’d just humiliated himself. Gods, he could only imagine how many people were laughing at him right now.
Fucking stupid media!
*****
“Wow, he’s so cool,” Amberla said, sitting next to her friend in class as the teacher allowed them to watch the unfolding coverage of events. The fact school wasn’t cancelled at all was amazing enough. Apparently, even people here in Varda’s Lair were at risk. This was probably the biggest thing that’d ever happened before.
She and her friend were seated in the back of the class, watching as the events unfolded. For something so important, it was surprisingly hard not to treat this like a sporting event. First, that brave zombie guy had beaten the dragon’s ass, and then Zachys Calador and Princess Kalana had begun fighting side by side, which was now the second-most-talked-about thing on social media after #KingGrundor. Everyone was talking about how the two seemed to be having some kind of contest to see who could do more damage, and then Kalana had won and had kissed him. They were so cute. She wished she could meet them. Instead, she had to go to class and write papers on the history of agriculture.
“Folks, there he goes, rushing back into the fight,” the reporter said. “Let me remind everyone that this is coming at you live, unfiltered, and we cannot be held responsible for any disturbing images you might see.”
Amberla leaned in closer, practically hovering over her desk. For the first time in days, she felt like things were going to be okay. After it was announced that the dragon threatened all of North Bastia, everyone had been so terrified and worried. Her mom was even talking about taking her to her uncle’s place and living in the basement or something. But now? Now she was starting to feel so much hope. Everyone was. The guilds had this all under control. Gods bless the Royal Roses and People of Virtue for saving all of their lives!