Chapter 19
From the Skies
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!!” Myra’s voice blew louder than even the symphony of monsters and spells that were flying abound. She’d thought she was finally done, but she just noticed the extra wave spawn south of her. There were a lot of them--hundreds, at least. All goblins, skittering like pointless, worthless rats.
“He he, work hard, little--”
“--shut the fuck up, your fairy whore!!” she immediately spun and faced the winged creature floating next to her, grabbing it tightly into her hand and squeezing as hard as she could. “What did I say, huh?”
“You--you can’t--”
“WHAT THE FUCK DID I SAY?!!” she squeezed even tighter until the bones began to crunch. “I don’t want to hear a fuckin’ word outta your filthy, ugly, shit-infested mouth! Didn’t I say that, huh? DIDN’T I?!”
“...”
“ANSWER ME, YOU BITCH!”
“Y-yes, you did--”
“--then why are you yapping?” she threw the winged creature onto the ground with grave force before stepping over the top of it, leaving only the head exposed. Myra’s expression was... something else, at the moment. She was angry--angry about everything, really, but had very few ways to vent it. Just killing hordes of monsters wasn’t enough. “You better shut the fuck up and pretend to be invisible while I’m being merciful.” THIS IS YOU BEING MERCIFUL?!!
The winged creature wanted to cry but no tears came out.
Feeling further frustrated, Myra gnashed her teeth before lifting her leg up. Just as the fairy thought she was free, her vision darkened and the boot landed squarely against her body, sending her flying backward.
Ignoring the tiny creature flying into the distance, Myra turned toward the incoming horde, sword in hand.
None of this made any sense.
Not her being here.
Not her doing this.
Not being treated like some clown in a circus who is only supposed to dance on the strings for her masters.
All she wanted to do was kick open the doors to whoever kidnapped her from Earth and yoke their necks until they couldn't even whimper for their God. But she couldn't. She was stuck here, in these ugly, godforsaken plains, killing ugly monsters by the hundreds.
As she approached the goblins, she began to dance; the wooden sword began to glitter and glow in the holy golden, its aura washing off like wavy smoke. Every time she stabbed, a burst of energy exploded, ripping through dozens of goblins at the time.
Every time she sliced, an array of swordlight emerged in the same arc, shredding through dozens of goblins at the time.
Every time she slashed, sword mirages appeared that tore through the world around, destroying everything in their wake.
The blood had even gotten into her eyes by now, but it didn’t bother her. If anything... it excited her. All that anger... it began to churn and blur, shedding through every strike of her sword.
The world tried to control it--the way she moved, the way she attacked, where her strikes went. She had to dismantle its claws to gain the freedom, to feel the flow of life and death trickle through her own fingers.
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It all ended, at last. The world stopped--monsters were no more and she stood alone in the field of annihilation. The terrain was beyond ruined and the sky bled red on the horizon. She panted heavily, tired in body and soul, crashing down to the ground.
Just then, a screen appeared next to her--she was accustomed to them by now, and expected it to be the one that informed her of a ‘job well done, jada jada’, nothing that concerned her. However, a cursory glance turned into debauched addiction--it wasn’t the screen informing her that she’d completed the stage but rather it was like a TV, a glimpse into another dimension.
There, a solitary man stood in the field of death--if she thought her world was wrought in horror, it was akin to an apple orchard compared to his. Monstrosities lay stacked like mountaintops, the world itself ripped from inside out, craters the size of sinkholes populating nearly every inch of the stage.
The monsters, too, were each more horrifying than the last. There were goblins, sure, but there were also things unspoken that roamed deft nightmares. But it didn't matter. None of it mattered.
Beyond just being the solitary human figure, the man was also the center of a storm--from him, toward all ends of the world, spells abound. Spears of chaotic light, motes of destruction, balls of fire, pillars of dirt... every second, it felt, a new natural phenomenon cratered the world. She pondered, for a moment, who was more responsible for the sheer destruction of the world, the man or the monsters.
Whichever it were, she sat captivated by the sight--it was raining blood upward, and the dirt was dyed crimson, its hue darkening.
It was only then, too, that it registered with her--the number of monsters. It was... beyond count. Hundreds? No, vastly more. There were at least a couple of thousand that were living and still attacking, and the number of corpses was at least half a thousand... and that was only from what she could see. There likely were even more buried under the debris or simply the other monsters.
“Fuck, I’m getting jealous...” she mumbled into her jaw. “Hey, why are you showing me this? Just to say ‘don’t get cocky, bitch, there’s a random dude that’s far better than you’? Huh, you nasty cunts. You really know how to get my blood boiling, ha ha ha,” she kicked back her head and laughed, her long, red hair--in part with blood, but in part naturally--falling back. “Alright, you tiny fucks. You’ve angered me again. Aaah, and I’ve just managed to vent. Alright. We’re gonna play.”
**
Asher activated Vanishment just barely in time to dodge an invisible arrow that swished past him. It was getting so annoying that he finally made the call--he had to go over and kill the bastard. He had to constantly look over his shoulder, and because of the swarm, he couldn't even see where the thing was stationed at this point.
However, he couldn’t simply run over wildly--he had to slowly circle while dodging the barrage of other spells and keeping close enough to the horde so as to constantly refresh Vanishment’s cooldown. If he was accidentally caught without it, he would undoubtedly die.
He leveled up once again, and just as he thought it would be another passive, scarlet chains began to whip out from his back, almost like wings. However, they didn't make him fly or anything like that; rather, they kept lashing out at even increments, and would likely deal damage to whatever they touched. Their length, however, seemed to barely cross four yards, and while they were nice to have, Asher could hardly imagine himself actively using them.
Bit by bit, he inched closer to the north.
“Shit,” he cursed, but it was too late. The arrow squarely streaked through his shoulder, ripping it open in a spectacle of blood and gore. He grunted and bit down as hard as he could, preventing himself from screaming. The pain nearly fried his mind for a moment but he endured--it was ‘only’ 15 damage, after all. He’d get it all back, including the shield, within just ten seconds at most.
However, just then he almost felt it--the Vanishment just came off cooldown and he barely used it. In fact, the time difference between being hit and using it was likely in the nanoseconds. Second arrow. The same, silent, invisible one. However, it came streaming from a completely different direction. South.
“... OH, GO FUCK YOURSELVES!!!” he screamed in frustration. This was too much. Forget tutorial, this was closer to an end-game boss battle rather than the last tutorial stage before the ‘actual game’.
He couldn’t change his plans, however; the second archer was on the complete opposite side of the arena and yet could still reach him. He imagined this was how the monsters felt about him sniping them from hundreds of yards away.
Some minute and a half later, he finally began beating at the northern side; he got nicked twice in the meantime by an arrow. It was simply too much, trying to keep both their cooldowns in mind as well as the direction, especially when they were out of sync. In truth, the Blessing was the MVP for him--were it not for his ability to top off his HP and get an extra shield on top of it within less than ten seconds, he would have died, undoubtedly.
The world paused suddenly--he thought he leveled up, but as he saw no selection in front of him, that couldn't have been it. Frowning, just as he was about to ask audibly what was happening, a flash of thunder ripped through the sky as a massive vortex opened. It spat out light, blindingly bright, and a tiny shadow in its downpour.
“Yo’, cool cocksucker!!” a woman’s voice blared through the sky like thunder. “I came to help!”
“...” Who’s this manic?!