“Lord Bhalkur will have his sacrifice, and nothing your pathetic group can do will stop him,” the man seated next to Tran shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the restaurant. As I watched, a cloud of yellow gas seemed to billow out of the man and I could detect mana burning off of him at a rapid rate.
When the gas hit me, I was immediately struck with an overwhelming sense of weariness. All around me people were dropping down as the gas hit them. For some reason, I was barely able to stay awake. Even the old lady cultist was struck down by the gas, and I could only hope that this was something to just knock people out, not kill them. After all, the cult wanted to sacrifice the summoned beings and draw out mana for their master.
Minor Toxin Resistance, that was it, that was why I was barely able to stay awake when others couldn’t. I played like I was asleep, resting my head on the table as I pushed mana into the ghoul figurine. If I summoned any of the others, they would probably just drop and fall asleep immediately, but the ghoul was undead, and would probably be immune.
“What is this,” I heard the man say to himself as the ghoul appeared and immediately attacked. My creature seemed more eager than normal, probably happy to finally dine on human flesh once again. I was having trouble staying awake, and I think I drifted off for a few seconds. Struggling awake, I lifted my head up to look around while my hand fumbled for the magic missile pistol.
The cloud of gas was dissipating, and I could see that the figurine for my ghoul was on recharge. Whoever the guy was with the gas, he had been strong enough to fight off my toughest creature. A quick check of the room showed that everyone else was still asleep. Some of the gas had even leaked out from the gaps in the doors and had knocked out guests about to walk into the restaurant.
In the aisle between my table and Tran’s the gas guy sat. His body looked oddly stiff and there were several deep claw and bit marks on him. He was paralyzed, and my ghoul had done a number on him before being taken down. Tran and Marie seemed fine, so I grabbed ahold of them and tried to drag them toward the door. I wanted to get them out of here before the authorities showed up.
“That was you, wasn’t it. You summoned the ghoul,” the paralyzed man said as he stumbled to his feet.
“It was, and there’s more where that came from,” I warned, reaching into my pocket for one of my consumable figurines. I grabbed the gelatinous cube launcher and didn’t wait to banter with the man, instead I pushed a point of mana into it and then fired off a Psionic Jolt, my mana burning off as our world drank it down greedily.
“Pathetic, I’m an honored servant of Lord Bhalkur, and you are merely food to nourish his return. Your weak magic has no effect on me,” the man said, not even flinching from my Psionic Jolt. I began to back away, drawing him away from Tran and Marie since I didn’t want them caught in the crossfire.
Behind the man, an oversized version of Melvin appeared, and I could see it winding up to hurl a blast of acidic slime at my foe. Before the cube launcher could fire, the man flicked his wrist toward me, and several sharp spines flew out. One buried itself in the gym bag I was reaching into, but the other two hit. My leg and chest burned as the spines, which seemed made of bone, burrowed into my flesh. I brushed them off, but I could already feel whatever venom or toxin that they were steeped in was starting to work on me.
I drew the magic missile pistol; the action was slow and clumsy as the aftereffects of the gas combined with the new toxins from the spikes. My resistance to toxins was only a minor one, and whatever nasty abilities this guy had were overcoming my resistance. As soon as the weapon was out, I activated a shot. A familiar glowing ball of light flew out, slamming into the man’s chest and knocking him backward into a table.
I tried to trigger a second shot, but the pistol sparked and popped as something went wrong inside of it. Reaching behind me, I grabbed the 1911, trying to line up the sights on the man who was standing up once more. My vision kept blurring and it made it difficult to focus. Behind the man, my cube launcher tossed a ball of slime that hit the man in the back, causing him to scream in pain as the acidic stuff did its work.
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He mastered the pain, and I could feel mana burning off him as he cast some new spell. I finally had a good sight picture of the man and tried to press the trigger. Nothing happened and I wondered if I was too weak to pull it. A wave of sickness overcame me and collapsed to the floor, barely able to sit and desperately trying to get my pistol to work.
“Fail weapons never ceases to deliver,” the man said. I looked behind him, waiting for the gelatinous cube to fire again. Unfortunately, the oversized cube was just sitting there, doing nothing.
“Your toys are all broken now. That fleshy creation is asleep, and your weapons are out of commission. Now, do I slay you here, or drag you back for my people to do things properly,” the man taunted as I slumped over on my side, darkness clawing at the edge of my vision.
“No, you don’t get to die so easily,” the man taunted reaching down to place his hand on my chest as he chanted and began to burn mana.
My vision focused a bit, and though I was still weak from the toxic sickness the man had inflicted on me, but I could feel him cancelling the toxins from the spikes, keeping me alive for the time being. The remnants of the gas cloud in the restaurant still had me groggy, but I was awake and if I was awake, I had a chance.
I tried to move my hand toward my pocket where the Verdigrim figurine and my MESS key were, but I wasn’t able to move. My other option was to summon my class figurines, I could activate them up to fifteen feet away.
Mana poured from me as I pushed a point into Lillia Farwind. The elf appeared next to me and immediately attacked the gas man as I was calling him in my toxin addled brain. For some reason, Lillia seemed unaffected by the sleeping gas, and the man seemed shocked to see her appear.
Shocked or not, the man wasted no time in responding, sending a hail of spikes at my summoned minion. Lillia blocked them with her shield and closed the distance. A quick strike of her spear was only partially dodged by the cultist who took the point of the weapon in his shoulder. He roared in pain and instead of backing off, pushed his way closer to Lillia who tried to hold him back with her shield.
The man was stronger than my summoned elf and reached behind the shield to get at my summoned minion. Grasping onto Lillia’s shield arm, the man burned more mana and the summoned elf shrieked in pain as green and black corruption moved up her arm at a terrifying pace. Only a few seconds later, she was turned into mana vapor. This guy was powerful, and I wasn’t sure that Rupert and my hound would be enough to deal with him.
Rupert appeared next and he only made it two steps before the gas took him down. Maybe elves were resistant to the sleeping gas, but it seemed to work on dwarves just fine. At least Rupert’s sudden appearance distracted the man who was stuffing a torn piece of his shirt into the hole in his shoulder that Lillia’s spear had opened.
My mana was getting low, and I couldn’t grab a mana tab to replenish it. I summoned the hound with some effort, wasting even more mana than normal as I had trouble focusing on the spell. The hound fell on its side almost immediately as it appeared in the gas filled restaurant.
“You’re a bit too dangerous to leave alive, I’m beginning to believe. May my master forgive me, but I think I need to finish you. Wait, are you the one that summoned all those foul creatures at the warehouse,” the cultists asked, anger etched on his features as he moved closer.
“Unnh,” was all I could mumble. Just as he recognized me, I recognized him. This was the Plague Warrior, the summoned being member of the cult that Marie said had taken out Randy. With a supreme effort, I tried to inch my fingers toward my pocket where Verdigrim was waiting. That plant monster would take care of this Plague Warrior without a problem.
I just couldn’t do it; I couldn’t overcome the toxins running through my system. The man walked over to the old lady, reaching into her purse, and pulling out a cruel-looking curved knife that seemed familiar. It was the same one that the woman had used on me when I was captured.
The weapon was an evil thing, and Celeste had warned me not to touch it. He was going to use it to sacrifice me as I lay here helpless. No matter how much I tried, no matter how much I wanted to kill the man who was responsible for so much death and suffering, I couldn’t do it.
As the man stood over me, he grinned and chanted in some strange language to his god. Behind him, the window to the store shattered and the gas started to flow outside. The knife the man held clattered to the dirty restaurant floor next to me, and when I looked up at the cultist, I was shocked to see his head had split open like a melon. He collapsed over me and the darkness pulling at the edges of my vision finally won out and I drifted off.