Chapter 102 - The Crystal Tyrant (Part 2) (Patreon)

The crystal forest truly is beautiful.

Crystal branches sway gently overhead, scattering kaleidoscopic light across the cavern floor while delicate chimes drift lazily through the air. A lone Chime Serpent coils comfortably around one of the trees, perfectly still as it rests in peaceful silence.

Nearby, a family of Prism Squirrels cautiously emerges from the surrounding branches.

They pause atop a glittering limb, apparently concluding that this particular corner of the cavern is finally safe enough to resume whatever deeply important squirrel business had previously occupied their afternoon. Considering the average squirrel, I have to assume their current agenda involves either acorns or tax fraud.

The air remains calm. Tranquil. As though nothing in the world matters more than preserving this tiny pocket of peace.

Then the ogre punches.

A Force-aspected shockwave tears through the grove. Crystal trees erupt into glittering fragments. The Chime Serpent follows a fraction of a second later, and the squirrels are violently promoted into an exceptionally short lesson on high-velocity geology.

Tragic.

A vine wraps around a distant tree, carrying my momentum alongside a carefully directed gravity current and allowing me to clear the expanding wave just before it reaches me. My feet touch a crystal branch for scarcely an instant before I push off again, preserving nearly mach two of momentum as I launch back into the air.

The ogre lands where I was supposed to be.

The impact sends another wave racing through the forest, converting yet another section of exquisitely crafted scenery into an aggressively modern art installation.

My tail flicks as gravity rotates around me. The current presses gently against my trajectory, bleeding away speed without forcing an abrupt stop, and I settle onto another crystal branch just as the last fragments finish raining from the cavern ceiling.

Yes.

This is clearly not working.

The ogre and I have been fighting for several minutes now, yet neither of us has accomplished much beyond convincing an alarming percentage of the cavern that it would look better as loose gravel.

Technically, waiting for the ogre to exhaust itself would still qualify as victory.

Technically.

It would also be deeply pedestrian.

I watch the crystal giant climb out of the latest crater it has generously donated to the local geography.

The problem is that this particular roaming boss is profoundly unpleasant to fight.

Every attack produces another enormous Force shockwave. My improved Vitality would likely prevent an immediate death should one connect, but surviving with several important bones relocated would still break my promise to Avelyn.

An unacceptable outcome.

Worse still, the constant area denial completely ruins the choreography.

Its physical abilities comfortably surpass my own in every category except Dexterity—an entirely reasonable state of affairs, naturally—but the real problem is that it refuses to participate in civilized swordsmanship.

Guiding Star would border on suicidal.

Blazing Star fares little better.

The dance thrives on continuity. Every slash should become a step, every step a spin, every spin another slash, until the entire battle blurs together into one uninterrupted performance.

The ogre, meanwhile, appears firmly committed to the revolutionary combat philosophy of "punch everything within two hundred meters."

Every shockwave tears another hole through my chosen line of movement, forcing me to abandon the cadence and begin building momentum all over again.

Three out of ten dance partner.

Points deducted for an appalling lack of rhythm.

This needs a solution. Quickly. Otherwise, the ogre will eventually exhaust itself, collapse into a convenient pile of crystal, and I will be forced to grapple with the profound disappointment of an aesthetically bankrupt victory.

A level of disappointment rivaled only by the realization that I will almost certainly never receive a sequel to Bloodborne.

A true tragedy.

Admittedly, it probably was never going to happen, even if humanity remained on Earth. Still, a fox can dream.

The ogre finally drags itself free of the latest crater it has generously excavated. It notices me studying the aftermath from my crystal tree perch, immediately concludes that the appropriate response is another punch, and demonstrates a level of commitment to repetitive problem-solving I can almost respect.

Almost.

A wall of Force mana tears across the forest with all the subtlety of an avalanche attempting to deliver an eviction notice.

I magnify my gravity and simply step off the branch.

The world rushes upward.

Crystal branches whip past as I plunge toward the cavern floor, the shockwave roaring through the canopy barely a heartbeat later. The upper halves of dozens of trees vanish into a glittering cloud of crystal fragments, transforming this part of the forest into yet another cautionary tale about standing too close to roaming bosses.

Before I reach the ground, two vines unfurl from my thighs and wrap around a particularly sturdy-looking branch.

They pull taut.

Gravity shifts with them.

Instead of allowing the fall to end, I begin feeding it back into itself. Tiny adjustments redirect the current every fraction of a second, converting what should have been a simple ballistic drop into a smooth, tightening arc. My momentum never disappears; it merely changes ownership.

The vines release.

I am launched directly toward the ogre.

It responds by stomping.

Force mana erupts outward in another expanding ring, racing across the forest with all the tact of a high explosive attempting to solve a social disagreement.

I abandon the attack immediately. Gravity reverses, my current pushing gently against my own momentum while the vines pull me clear of the expanding wave.

The shock passes harmlessly beneath me.

I click my tongue.

This is becoming incre—

…

I blink.

My ears perk.

That is…

An exceptionally foolish habit.

I settle onto a low crystal branch, tail flicking thoughtfully behind me as the ogre begins hauling itself free of yet another crater.

I believe I need to ask myself a few questions. Namely: Why am I slowing down? Or, more importantly, why do I keep choosing to?

Every time the ogre forces me to disengage, my first instinct is to bleed away my own momentum, come to a graceful stop, and begin building speed all over again.

That made perfect sense five minutes ago. Five minutes ago, I was still limited to mostly linear movement.

But now?

I glance down at the faint indigo currents still flowing lazily around my hands.

Gravity no longer cares what direction I am traveling.

So why, exactly, am I continuing to fight as though it does?

…

Right.

A habit. An unfortunately persistent side effect of possessing a functional nervous system.

My tail swishes once.

This is going to cost an alarming amount of stamina.

The solution, however, is surprisingly straightforward.

Sylrae doesn't merely redirect her bullets. She gives them a road. A current to follow. The projectile never truly stops accelerating because the path itself continues carrying it forward.

I have already done precisely that.

Not intentionally.

When I dropped from the tree earlier, the vines and gravity current naturally fed one movement into the next without ever allowing my momentum to disappear.

I simply…

Didn't take the obvious next step.

Deep indigo and midnight blue bloom across my body, Astral Energy flooding outward until the air around me shimmers with faint distortions. Tiny pinpricks of starlight flicker within the glow before vanishing again, like distant constellations glimpsed through deep water.

The ogre has built its entire fighting style around punishing straight lines.

An entirely reasonable strategy.

It is also deeply unfortunate for the ogre that I have recently lost interest in traveling in them.

The punches are directional.

Direction can be curved.

The stomps…

...Those will require further experimentation.

My tail swishes more enthusiastically.

Fortunately, experimentation happens to be one of my specialties.

The indigo glow surrounding my body intensifies as Astral Energy continues pouring into the gravitational current wrapped around me. Rather than forming another straight channel, I begin twisting it gently through the forest, shaping a broad curve between myself and the ogre.

I immediately discover that constructing an actual gravitational rail is considerably more demanding than the micro-adjustments from earlier. Maintaining a straight current merely requires direction. Maintaining a curved one requires constant correction, every tiny movement threatening to unravel the entire structure if I become even slightly careless.

Expected.

Blue Force mana gathers around the ogre's fist before detonating outward as another devastating shockwave tears across the battlefield.

This time, I don't retreat.

I launch.

Gravity catches me almost instantly. Instead of pulling me directly toward my target, the current bends beneath my feet, carrying my momentum sideways until the entire world begins curving around the ogre. 

The sensation is profoundly unnatural, like skating across an invisible river that someone has inexplicably decided should flow in circles.

For one glorious second…

It works.

Then I nearly introduce my face to a crystal tree at approximately mach two.

My vines react before I do, lashing around the trunk and slinging me through a spectacularly inelegant orbit that somehow preserves almost all of my momentum despite doing catastrophic damage to my dignity. The rail catches me again the instant they release, and I continue sweeping through the forest as though the incident had been part of the choreography all along.

…

Eight out of ten recovery.

Points deducted for briefly resembling laundry trapped inside an unusually vindictive washing machine.

The shockwave passes harmlessly through the space I would have occupied moments earlier. Apparently, curving around impending death is considerably more effective than politely remaining in front of it.

Encouraging.

The current carries me onward in a broad orbit around the battlefield. Vines snap toward passing trees, sometimes nudging my trajectory by a few precious degrees, other times wrapping completely around the trunk before gravity bends around it as well, allowing me to swing gracefully through another curve without sacrificing speed.

The process is outrageously expensive.

Every adjustment demands another adjustment, which then demands three more immediately afterward. My concentration is split between maintaining the rail, monitoring the ogre, avoiding crystal trees, and ensuring I do not accidentally convert myself into a cautionary tale regarding high-speed collisions.

The reward, however, is obvious.

My momentum never disappears.

Excellent.

The ogre roars and launches itself toward me with all four fists raised, demonstrating an admirable commitment to solving every problem through overwhelming physical violence.

I push gently against the current.

Rather than accelerating, I rotate.

The change is subtle enough that I barely notice it at first. My speed remains almost identical, yet the direction beneath my feet quietly swings away until the ogre rushes past where I had been less than half a heartbeat earlier.

Interesting.

I did not dodge.

I simply stopped agreeing with the ogre on where "forward" was.

My tail flicks.

Astra Nocturne flashes out.

As the giant passes beside me, I allow the remaining momentum to continue carrying the movement instead of forcing an abrupt correction. A slash emerges naturally from the arc, the sapphire reverberation flowing through my blade as it carves a deep line across crimson crystal before I am already gone again, continuing along the same sweeping curve through the forest.

The ogre turns.

Far too slowly.

Its answering punch tears through the space I abandoned several seconds ago, the resulting Force wave accomplishing nothing besides reducing another picturesque section of crystal forest into loose architecture.

Gravity quietly rotates beneath my feet once more.

I nod to myself.

Much better.

The dance remains unfinished. Some transitions still lack polish, and I continue overshooting corners often enough that several entirely innocent trees have been forced to make deeply personal sacrifices in the name of scientific progress.

The improvement is nevertheless undeniable.

By the time I complete another orbit, the ogre stamps its foot once more, another expanding ring of Force racing outward through the forest..

Running away would work.

It would also accomplish the deeply unfortunate task of discarding all of my momentum.

I refuse.

Instead, I widen the rail.

The elegant curve stretching around the ogre broadens into a sweeping arc, carrying me almost parallel to the expanding shockwave rather than directly away from it. A nearby vine lashes around a crystal tree, sacrificing both itself and a respectable portion of the trunk to wrench my trajectory outward by perhaps twenty degrees.

Just enough.

The wave catches me, merely a glancing touch rather than slapping me head-on.

Force floods through my body, trying to hurl me away from the ogre.

I simply… agree.

Briefly.

Gravity twists beneath my feet at precisely the same moment, rotating my path until my momentum and the expanding wave are almost perfectly aligned. Instead of resisting the Force, I allow it to push me along my own trajectory, stealing only the portion willing to cooperate before the rail quietly bends me away again.

My speed surges.

...Oh.

My ears perk.

That is considerably prettier.

The ogre had not interrupted the dance.

It had merely offered to lead for a step.

I had expected the G-forces of this maneuver to be rather painful, perhaps even sufficient to break my promise to Avelyn.

Surprisingly, I feel almost nothing.

Just the faintly unpleasant sensation of my bones and organs quietly renegotiating where they would prefer to be.

Likely the combined effort of my Dexterity, Strength, and Vitality milestone skills, coupled with the fact that this orbit is exceptionally broad. The gentler the curve, the less violently I need to convince physics to change its mind.

Attempting to perform a complete orbit around a tree at this speed, however…

I strongly suspect my internal organs would submit a formal complaint.

The current gradually redirects over the next few seconds, bleeding away only a moderate fraction of my momentum before settling into another smooth arc. I deliberately keep the correction shallow enough that I could still perform an emergency maneuver should the ogre suddenly decide to develop original ideas.

It doesn't.

My path carries me toward a particularly tall crystal tree.

Perfect.

I reshape the rail.

My tail flicks, rotating my body toward the trunk, and I skip across its surface with a single light step. Gravity bends with me, turning what should have been a collision into another elegant adjustment as my trajectory swings inward, shortening the orbit dramatically while preserving nearly all of my speed.

Much better.

I believe this dance has gone on for long enough.

A smile finds its way onto my face.

Only slightly smug.

Time to end this.

Conveniently, the ogre's latest stomp has already demolished everything nearby, leaving the ground around it pleasantly free of trees eager to interrupt my choreography.

It draws back another fist.

Force mana gathers around it in a pale blue glow.

I curve the rail toward the ground before the punch is even released.

The resulting shockwave tears overhead, close enough that the displaced air sends my skirt, hair, and tail streaming dramatically behind me.

Excellent.

My foot brushes the ground.

Gravity anchors my footing while simultaneously lightening the rest of my body, the familiar techniques from before blending seamlessly with the newer currents. Before inertia has the opportunity to voice any meaningful objections, I push away again.

The pirouette is completely unnecessary.

I perform it anyway.

A fresh gravitational current catches me immediately afterward, curling tightly around the ogre's ankle. One vine lashes forward and wraps around the crystalline limb while another snaps taut behind me, each adding just enough correction that my momentum folds neatly into a perfect orbit.

Astra Nocturne flashes.

The blade traces a single uninterrupted line through crimson crystal as I complete an entire revolution around the leg.

The foot separates cleanly.

Only then does the ogre realize it no longer possesses it.

Its reaction speed is tragically insufficient to keep up with my current speed.

The current spirals upward before the collapsing giant has even finished dropping to one knee. My vines strike the ground behind me, adding another burst of upward momentum as gravity guides me along the ascending path. Each time the orbit carries me within reach, Astra Nocturne leaves another precise cut before the curve sweeps me onward again.

The ogre swings.

Finally.

One enormous hand attempts to swat me from the air.

A vine wraps around its wrist at the same instant the current bends beneath my feet.

I do not stop.

I simply... curve.

The slap sails harmlessly past as my orbit tightens around the arm instead. Astra Nocturne carves another brilliant line across crimson crystal before gravity quietly returns me along nearly the same path I had just traveled, my momentum remaining almost perfectly intact.

…

This must be what using ODM gear feels like. Except roughly an order of magnitude faster, and considerably more elegant.

Obviously.

During the serpent fight, I had begun worrying that I was slowly losing the dancer aesthetic.

Avelyn insisted otherwise.

At the time, I suspected bias.

Now…

My momentum has not broken for a single instant.

My dance has become something more than exceptionally fast fox-shaped ballistics. 

The ogre attempts another swing.

Astra Nocturne answers first.

One crystalline hand tumbles to the forest floor. Half a heartbeat later, the forearm follows it. Then the upper arm.

I complete another orbit before the fragments even finish falling, deciding that symmetry is aesthetically pleasing enough to justify removing the shoulder as well.

The remaining two arms fare little better.

The ogre attempts another stomp.

Unfortunately for it, one generally requires at least one foot to accomplish such a maneuver.

It attempts to roar instead.

Blue Force mana gathers within its throat, the glow intensifying until I suspect it intends to unleash some particularly dramatic final attack.

Potentially another technique designed to force distance.

A perfectly reasonable idea.

Somewhat undermined by the fact that I remove its jaw with an entirely unnecessary forward flip less than a second later.

The charge dissipates harmlessly into the surrounding air.

I continue.

The gravitational rail winds effortlessly through the shattered battlefield, every orbit flowing into the next without interruption. Vines, gravity, footfalls, and momentum become indistinguishable from one another, each merely another step in the choreography.

The ogre stops feeling like an opponent.

It becomes terrain.

A moving piece of the stage.

Each attempt to strike merely presents another surface to pivot from. Each wave of Force simply offers another opportunity to borrow momentum.

Piece by piece, I dismantle it.

Not hurriedly. Methodically. Elegantly.

By the time the dance ends, the Crystal Tyrant has quietly ceased to possess enough remaining structure to justify the title.

The final cut passes almost lazily through its core.  The giant collapses.

Crimson crystal disintegrates into an avalanche of glittering fragments that crashes across the ruined forest floor before gradually settling into silence.

I land lightly atop the largest pile.

My tail swishes behind me with enough enthusiasm to qualify as a small weather event.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You have slain Crystal Tyrant (Level 69 | Tier 2).

An experience bonus has been awarded for slaying a monster 6 levels above you.

Your race has leveled up to level 64.

Your class has leveled up to level 64.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Only one level until my next skill selection.

Excellent.

I nod solemnly before immediately sitting down atop my newly acquired mountain of crystal. One hand supports my chin as the frankly irresponsible amount of stamina I just spent begins presenting its invoice.

Entirely worth it.

My ears remain fully perked.

My tail continues swishing behind me with absolutely no intention of stopping.

I let my gaze wander across the battlefield.

The forest is gone.

Several square kilometers have been enthusiastically reclassified as decorative gravel.

The destruction is... admittedly excessive.

Very pretty, though.

More importantly…

That was unbelievably fun.

I had disliked this fight at first. Every stomp interrupted my rhythm. Every shockwave forced distance. Every exchange felt incomplete.

The mistake, however, had never belonged to the ogre.

It belonged to me.

I kept trying to dance despite the interruptions.

The correct solution was to make the interruptions part of the dance.

Nine out of ten roaming boss.

Bonus points for accidentally serving as an excellent movement instructor.

"...Lyn."

I blink.

Only then do I notice the rest of the party standing some distance away, just beyond the edge of my gravity sense.

Ah.

I had been rather distracted.

Everyone is tense. Breathing carefully. Their shoulders remain slightly rigid beneath the crushing pressure of my Life Suppression.

Yet...

No one has stepped back. No one is looking at me with fear. They are just… enduring it.

My gaze settles on Avelyn.

She is smiling, soft and warm, her expression full of something I cannot immediately clock.

"So..." she says, a quiet laugh escaping with the words. "...that's what you really look like."

…

My smile disappears before I consciously decide to remove it.

My posture adjusts.

The mask settles back into place with practiced ease, smoothing every unnecessary expression from my face.

I dismiss Life Suppression a heartbeat later.

Then I move over to them and open my mouth to speak.

A warm golden light interrupts me first. Avelyn's healing settles over my body.

Predictably…

Absolutely nothing happens.

Her smile somehow grows even softer.

"You kept your promise."

I nod once.

"Naturally."

Sylrae apparently decides this exchange requires no further comment. She stretches both arms above her head before giving her wings an equally languid stretch, several feathers rustling quietly as she sighs.

Rin, meanwhile, whistles appreciatively at the remains of the Crystal Tyrant.

"Damn. All by yourself? You really are insanely strong, aren't ya, little miss?"

…

Stars above.

The little miss virus is spreading.

It is highly contagious, apparently.

Marek chuckles as he rolls one shoulder.

"Alright. We're still on a timer, so let's get moving. Little miss, I assume you burned through most of your stamina during that fight. Hang back and recover while we travel."

I consider protesting for approximately half a second.

Then decide that walking while recovering is, in fact, strategically optimal.

I nod instead.

Within moments, we are moving once more.

Marek naturally takes the lead while Sylrae returns to the air, lazily circling overhead. Zeke quickly falls into conversation with the Bearkin, discussing something involving mana efficiency that I only partially overhear.

Rin, meanwhile, has apparently decided to become a public nuisance.

Every so often he bends down, picks up a loose crystal fragment from the battlefield, and flicks it toward Sylrae with startling accuracy.

She dodges the first.

The second.

The third.

By the fifth, she is looking at him with the unmistakable expression of someone carefully evaluating whether dropping an extremely large rock on another person technically counts as self-defense.

I quietly decide not to involve myself.

Beside me, Avelyn matches my pace effortlessly.

Every now and then her tail brushes lightly against my arm as we walk.

She never comments on the fight.

Never asks about the expression I made. Never mentions the way I had been sitting atop the ogre's remains, looking entirely too pleased with myself.

She simply…

Walks beside me.

I glance toward the others.

Marek continues his conversation with Zeke. Sylrae still has not committed homicide. Rin is making remarkably little progress toward changing that.

No one glances at me out of the corner of their eye. No one speaks more cautiously than before. No one looks remotely disturbed by the Life Suppression I had forgotten to dismiss.

…

That does not make sense.

My ears lower slightly.

By all available evidence, everyone should have reacted. The pressure had been immense. My posture had been imperfect. The mask had slipped.

Yet nobody seemed frightened.

Nobody even appeared particularly surprised.

…

I do not understand.

More concerning still…

My ears continue softening despite the problem remaining completely unsolved.

I don't understand that, either.