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2.72. Staying Alive

I'm dying because I'm an idiot. At the worst time too. If Bloom were here, this probably wouldn't be a problem. Hell, if I had life mana bound to my soul, I could heal myself. Wait. I can heal myself. Man, sometimes I really don't impress myself. Most the time, really. But I tend to keep a blind eye on most of my foolishness.

With my dying revelation brought to me from death, I use the healing skill I absorbed a couple weeks ago. Healing mana passes from my hand into the gaping hole cut into my neck. It's gruesome and feels gross on the healing side and the healer's end. The injury is severe enough that it takes a large portion of death mana to convert into the right energy to heal the wound.

My bountiful well of death mana is now only at fifty percent. Fifteen percent alone was used for healing… Not dying is expensive. Fortunately, this is a battlefield. The dead energy is thick enough to taste; it's only a matter of time before the spent energy is renewed. Not that I'm worried. I've snagged dozens of minions with my reanimation, which has only reduced my capacity by about twenty-five percent. I still have plenty of strength and mana left if I want to recruit more. Which I do.

Now that my neck is fully healed, I jump back into action. Turns out Jim is an enthusiastic jumper. I find myself falling through the air, closing the distance between me and the remaining templar atop the bunker. The airborne act of bravery allows me to bypass the guardian valkeers currently looking for my head. They are somewhat peeved that their security has been dismissed.

Four guardians are climbing to the top of the bunker to protect the last templar. The other guardians thicken their shields and ready attacks for the instant I reappear. Most of the time, I've been skirting around the bunker while shooting my arrows. Only once did I appear on the top to finish a kill. My ability to attack at a distance is causing the guards to split their focus on the near and far.

No longer able to fight back the storm cloud, the wizard stops channeling energy into it and prepares herself for a fight. Wind charged with electricity kicks up, blowing away from the wizard in all directions. As the wizard focuses on me, the storm cloud pushing inside the light barrier is now working through the demon army. Puddles of burnt corpses trail its wake.

I'm preparing myself for a foolish fight against a prepared templar with excellent control over air elements and a group of angry guards looking for redemption. Honestly, I don't know if it is worth fighting here anymore. The templar is not strong enough alone to push back the storm. I try to weigh my options and plan for a quick attack.

A small opening behind the wizard shows a window for attack. The lone valkur, the horned-wingless harpy type, is barely at the page rank. His control over his fire element is clumsy, much like his stance and awareness of his perilous situation. It's his overconfidence that leaves him exposed. Unlike his skill, his equipment emanates a powerful aura. Fire is blazing from his shield; in his other hand is a short crossbow with an attachment housing bolts that feed directly into the arrow chamber.

The exquisitely equipped guard casually scans his area of watch. His eyes linger long on each spot, and his shield is lowered, protecting the lower half of his body which is already well protected by the metallic leg guards. I carefully aim at the only opening in the guard's armor, the slit in his helmet for his eyes.

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My breathing is relaxed. My hands are steady. I let my shroud of shadow drop while my perception is still skewing my whereabouts for all those around me.

Fury is attacking us. The sudden message popping into my mind catches me off guard. The timing for my shot is ruined, and the arrow slams into the side of the helmet rather than piercing through the slit. Energy and the powerful impact upend the guard sending him into a collision course with the wizard he's defending.

All the attention of the guards focuses on where the attack came from. I'm no longer there. I jumped back into shadow as soon as I got the message from Nette. Worry and urgency were woven thick into her words. I tried to reach back to her through our link only to find it severed. So, I'm running away from the fight I was totally winning to a new fight I really rather not fight. Why is Fury attacking us? Who has the power to control him?

Boss, Gene… Did you two get the message from Nette?

Yeah. We can win this fight here, but I'm afraid the outcome will be different if we leave. I can sense that Gene is very torn. She wants to hurry to her people, but doing that would leave the people here exposed. The defenders would have to shift their attention from aggressively defending the demons to fighting and protecting the people Gene keeps safe in shadow. If Bones were to leave, they would lose an entire army — the only reason they are still in the fight.

While the tide of the battle is turning, victory is still an extended gruesome fight away for the defenders. Bones' army is now a quarter of the size of the demon force, and while it is still growing, it is growing slower than it was at first. The storm cloud is putting a dent into the demons, and if that stays in the power of the defenders, they have a key to victory. However, the cloud is moving slowly, and the demons are slowly maneuvering around it. Still, it is a terrible force, claiming many lives as it hunts for more.

The rear flank commanded by Ruby, the death templar I recruited, is causing chaos in the back lines. My army isn't nearly as strong as Bones or the two templars controlling the cloud, but it still aids with the fight. The demons have more templars that I could hunt down that would hasten our victory, but they're mainly offering support than actually fighting power.

I'll return to help. The decision is easy. I don't have the power to fight against the masses like the others, nor do I have the strength to hold so many people in my shadow realm like Gene. Taking myself out of this fight won't affect the outcome much. Not that I think that I can take on Fury. The thought threatens to slow my pace. He's a dragon, almost at the sage rank. I'm just a knight. My strongest ability isn't honed, and even if I had an army of dead, the dragon would just burn through them as he does.

Of course, I won't be alone in the fight. We still have the spiders and three templars on our side. If we work together, we might be able to bring Fury down and break whatever spell has got a hold over him. That, or we kill him and hope that he's no longer being controlled when he returns. He's got to be possessed by another… Fury is not a traitor.

I'm just about clear of the demon army when I find a pack of shadow cats lingering in the back. The cats don't look like they are interested in the fight much. Instead, they are salivating at the impending feast to come. I pick the largest cat out of the bunch, sprint into the pack, dispatch my target, and pull him back into my shadow. After a small investment of death mana, I'm now on the back of a cat, quickly running back home. My mind is racing through any possible way I can help in the fight against Fury.