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Torchbearer (Old Version)
(Chapter 30) Log 3.16_v2.4

(Chapter 30) Log 3.16_v2.4

One rat was faster than the others and made it ahead of their formation. With my pulse beating in my ears, I readied myself to test the improvements I had made on Pharus, but the information that Ardor provided just in time after a small eternity spent “[CALCULATING…]” made me curse and dodge the Feral’s attack instead.

[IlcuHNtoD-113]

[Absolute danger level: low]

[Relative danger level: medium]

The rat recovered with uncanny speed, its dirty claws and foul teeth trailing a sickly yellow light. Just a split second later, it was on me again, jumping with its jaw extended to bite deep into my arm. I flared the torch and rammed it into its underside, using its own momentum to propel it over my shoulders.

[>>PROCESSES BY USER IlcuHNtoD-113 ARE NOW HIGHLIGHTED]

Zephyro did not waste any time and yelled something in Arabic. The giant moon that hung over the Plaza, still drowning in blood, shot a powerful tendril of red into its frame which pulsed once and sent the rat spasming. I barely noticed that the red tinge on the moon receded a little bit, and then the next two rats were on me. Dodging one I flared my torch and hit the other a second after it left a green crackling gash on my armor.

[>>PROCESSES BY USER IlcuHNtoD-124 ARE NOW HIGHLIGHTED]

I didn't bother to check if Zephyro dispatched it and instead spun around, activated my torch's ability, and slammed it on the back of the other rat while it was still turning around. Have I gotten faster? Is that practice, or a program?

[>>PROCESSES BY USER IlcuHNtoD-312 ARE NOW HIGHLIGHTED]

An ear-piercing screech from the dying rat behind me made my hair stand on end. Rat number three, however, hissed in anger and tensed, ready to pounce. I did not give it the chance. Stomping on its tail, gripped my mace with both hands and brought it down on it again and again, grunting loudly with exertion at every strike. It only took five before the rat exploded and released its Logic. I drew in a sharp breath as I spun towards the remaining Ferals.

{INCOMING LOGIC - 45 LB}

{INCOMING LOGIC - 53 LB}

{INCOMING LOGIC - 51 LB}

{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 364 LB}

{CPU Load: ▲ 65%}

{Core Temp: ▲ 72° C}

As the Logic settled in my soul, my eyes widened. I had expected my core temperature to be close to breaking Arx, but instead, I was barely even winded.

When my nerves settled into a deadly calm, drawing every contour in sharp detail, I felt a grin spread over my lips. I remembered this feeling. Intent pulsing in every motion, absolute certainty directing my every move. This emotion, this intent, had been my constant companion through many battles, crushing fear and uncertainty until only purpose remained.

The Ferals seemed to notice the change in me as well, holding back even as my stance opened. I eased further, snorting a derisive laugh. I was completely open now. If Stax could have seen me, he would have blown a fuse!

“Sultana?” Zephyro asked, warily. “Aren’t there more Ferals—“

“You can go, I got this.”

He hesitated for a second, but when I shot him a look, he bowed and hurried away.

I took one slow step toward the remaining three Ferals. They twitched.

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My smile widened into a grin. Despite Stax’s attention, I had never been a skillful fighter. Oh, he had tried to teach me, and often. I just never needed it. Training how to block, dodge, and control your stamina was pointless when I could summon power armor that rendered any attack completely null and void.

Why learn fancy fencing techniques when your weapons obliterated enemies from miles away? The few that had gotten in close… Suffice it to say that after years of infusing my Torch—the real one, not this meager replica—with my Wish, it had been a magnificent weapon. On the battlefield, no one touched me twice.

Here, in this weird world with its glitching houses and simulated people, the overconfidence born from my former invincibility had often reminded me that it was a slow and insidious killer. For a while, I had even regretted not listening to Stax more. Unused even in a decade of constant war, skills that should have been etched into my bones had become hazy memories instead. How often had that nearly cost me my life? I laughed, and the Ferals twitched back. That just made me laugh harder.

With each enemy that had fallen, I had clawed back my Wish, concept by concept, intent by intent. As long as I had enough of it and invested it wisely, it would inevitably render me invincible. Just like before. This glorious feeling would be the norm again, and I’d forget all those moments of fear and doubt. Sure, I wasn’t there yet, not quite.

But it didn’t fucking matter.

Soon Pharus would become a perfect conduit of my will, offering complete control, and Arx would cover me entirely, not letting anything hurt me ever again.

As for now, my strength was more than enough to deal with some rats. I almost pitied the filthy little beasts as that familiar power thrummed in my every fiber, filling me with languid power. It began pulsing in my temples, made my fists clench…

It was obvious now the Ferals sensed it, too. Their weakness was written in the anxious twitches of their muscles, in the way they eyed each other; questioning, wary.

My grin widened. They were about to break. Just a little bit more, and they would turn and run. One step was all it would take. Pharus’ flames roared, stirred by gust of wind.

Yes… everything was just like I remembered. Just like all those skirmishes and battles and wars. They all put up a brave facade, marching against me under their magical shields and armed with glowing swords and stolen rifles.

Until their courage splashed impotently against my armor.

Until the scorching flames of my torch seared their morale apart.

Until they were no longer opponents to fight, just chattel to be processed.

A four-story building collapsed at the edge of the plaza. Heat wafted over me. Someone yelled my name.

It didn’t matter.

I flared my Torch as I walked forward. When the first rat twitched back, turning to flee, it was like a gunshot starting a race. My legs pumped beneath me in a mad staccato, and despite its initial advantage, the distance between the Feral and me shrunk rapidly. I had to catch it, make it pay. In that glorious, fear-free state of mind, nothing else mattered. Not the people I bowled over, not Zephyro, not the other two Ferals. They couldn’t stop me. No one could. My vision narrowed, centered on my fleeing prey. Something slammed into my ankle but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but this. I had cornered the beast, driven it all the way against the Palace wall. I yelled my impending victory, echoing across the Plaza. The rat screeched, frozen in fear. My heartbeat hammered in my ears, drowning out everything else.

Then the beast was in range.

One strike was all it took.

Bone crunched, repulsive black-green blood erupted from impact, eyes, and snout alike.

The squealing died off, and Logic streamed from the corpse.

{INCOMING LOGIC - 60 LB}

{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 430 LB}

The remaining two beasts slammed into my back in rapid succession, pushing me forward and pulling my attention down to reality like a stock market crash. I stumbled until I crashed against the palace wall, and my rage spiked.

{CPU Load: ▲ 69%}

{Core Temp: ▲ 74° C}

How dared they?

I pushed myself off and spun, Pharus becoming a blur. The Ferals had ducked back and the attack went wide. The fire trailing from the torch illuminated the fear in the rodents’ eyes, but that was not nearly enough. I needed them to die. Die so that I could be safe.

Put your anger into your strikes, Sam.

I raised the torch up high.

You are in control…

My entire arm trembled. With excitement, I told myself.

Exhaustion… whispered that weak voice I tried to hard to ignore.

I reached for my Wish, gathered as much of it can into an imaginary fist, and pushed it into my weapon.

… don’t let your anger take that from you, or you will become nothing more than its tool.

Stax’s warning, surfacing like a corpse in a pond, came too late. As the Logic inexorably rushed from my heart up my arm and into Pharus, his words, so well-intentioned at the time, warped and twisted until they taunted me, a stark reminder of my failure.

Again, I could almost feel the rope fraying, strands snapping until just a single thread bore the entire weight of my despair.

{CONSUMED LOGIC - 90 LB}

{AVAILABLE LOGIC - 340 LB}

{[Pharus, Wrath of the Torchbearer] v.06

IS NOW

{[Pharus, Wrath of the Torchbearer] v.091