Book 5 - Chapter 46 (Patreon)

Anwir’s charge was quick as lightning. He flew past the [Knights] defending the [Great Witch] as if they were frozen statues. He wasn’t quicker than her magic, though, and Arnarra flung a curse into him. Cold and cruel and merciless, vast in power, it reminded Brin of the terrible curse that Awnadil had used against Lumina, which had troubled her for months, the kind of curse that would have peeled his flesh off of his bones if it had struck him.

This time, however, Brin had the weight of an entire nation behind him, and he focused the Wyrd-workers in the Great Conduit to protect Anwir.

[Power Shot] combined with [Knight’s Charge] gave Anwir unparalleled force and he blasted straight through Arnarra, tearing into her chest and heart with such force that it blew one of her arms off completely.

With her free hand she yanked hard on the ragged flesh of her chest and side, pulling it back into approximate shape. She morphed the flesh with her magic to seal the gaps, to regrow the most vital organs, all the while hacking up blood and shaking convulsively. The new flesh was paper white and cancerous, but it held.

“No one follow him! Anwir, [Charge] back!” ordered Cid. The [Dread Knights] were ready and waiting now. No one would be able to use [Knight’s Charge] to skip past them again. Three of the [Dread Knights] moved to cut off Anwir, and that was three too many–Anwir was the weakest fighter in the Lance.

Something exploded against the back of the middle [Dread Knight’s] head. Cowl had thrown it… it was that damn kettlebell again. It was just barely enough of a distraction. Anwir should be able to–

“Get back here now!” Cid shouted.

Anwir used [Knight’s Charge]. He leapt over the stumbling [Dread Knight], but when he landed his leg gave way, and he fell. His leg. An undead had broken it only last week, and not everyone had Brin’s insane recovery speed. Anwir stumbled and then rolled straight into the legs of a [Dread Knight].

The [Dread Knight] chopped down with an axe, and it clanged against… Rhun’s tower shield. Only, Rhun hadn’t moved from his position.

In his recovery from the mental breakdown he’d given himself with Zaff, he hadn’t been nearly as focused as he should be on his Lance. Specifically, he hadn’t noticed the gains they’d gotten from the fight with Zaff or the brutal skirmishes before that. Rhun had an Achievement that was doing the trick.

Perfect Protector

You can change physical damage that would’ve hit your allies to hit you instead. Mana cost scales proportionally to the amount of force being directed.

“Aeron, Meredydd, pull him out!” ordered Cid.

The two of them used [Knight’s Charge], but two [Dread Knights] moved in time to block their path with shields, and more moved to ambush them. The rest of the Lance rushed in to keep them alive, which meant that now the entire Lance was engaged in an upfront fight with much more experienced [Knights], and worse, no one could get to Anwir.

The fight was quick and brutal and the Lance forgot all thoughts of pushing forward, it was all they could do to survive one moment to the next. Brin fought with magic and spear, but the [Dread Knights] were relentless. Glass bullets plinked harmlessly off the armor, glass spears were shattered before they could finish forming. Mirror Men crashed to pieces before they could move. He was learning why [Knights] beat [Mages]. They didn’t give him any time to ramp up, so the only real use he got out of his magic was what he used to empower his sword, shield, and armor.

Rhun absorbed two more strikes against the [Knight of Arrows]. Anwir disentangled himself and climbed to his feet.

Brin saw the path; Anwir could make it. Three [Knight’s Charges] in a row would mean they’d have to carry him after this, but there was a straight shot back to the Lance and safety, and if he moved now. He saw it, and he knew that Anwir saw it, too.

Anwir turned, the wrong direction. He used [Power Shot], guiding Gualdim’s enchanted arrow with the Skill as well as his body, and drove it into Arnarra’s skull. She burst into a cloud of black, flapping wings.

Arnarra’s batlike familiar screamed in outrage and latched onto Anwir’s body, holding him in place. A [Dread Knight] chopped into his neck, once, twice, and then Rhun’s magic gave out. A third chop took Anwir’s head from his body.

Brin felt oddly detached as he watched his friend and comrade’s decapitated head fall to the ground. It didn’t seem all that interesting to him; instead, he was more concerned with Arnarra. Her black wings hadn’t faded away like they should. She was moving at top speed away, over and across the ruined city. That wasn’t Arcaena’s perfect escape Skill at work; it was the regular [Witch] transforming escape.

He summoned a crowd of Mirror Men behind him, then had them run forward and take his place against the enemies. It only held them back for half a second, and he used that time to create eight directed threads all at once. He gave them all the same command: pick a bat and shoot it down with a laser.

He didn’t need to use his Fire Jelly cores for this, regular lasers would be fine for shooting down bats. They fired.

Arnarra reformed into her woman shape in the air, and then burning like a comet, she plummeted to the ground.

“We need to disengage!” shouted Cid.

The [Dread Knights] tasted blood, and pushed even harder. He saw Hedrek fighting like a wild man. He struck the enemy’s armor over and over, but took just as many blows in return. Each of the strikes of a [Dread Knight] weapon made an impact of magical sparks and left gouges in the armor. Outnumbered as they were, trading blows was a losing strategy. Cowl fought much the same as Hedrek for once, wild and angry, screaming with pain and loss.

 Cid, Aeron, Rhun, and Brych made an organized defense, going by the book and leaving no openings, moving a step back with each second that passed. Meredydd had his scythe out and it was strangely effective. The stronger and more experienced [Dread Knights] kept getting out of place and turned around due to his strange movements. It might’ve been the only thing keeping their last member alive.

Govannon fought like a rabid snake, but the [Dread Knights] never had less than two men on him at a time and his attacks didn’t do damage. With an axe in one hand and his sword in the other, he struck their armor, sneaky quick little jabs, but it didn’t penetrate.

He saw the moment when it shifted, when the [Dread Knights] had him figured out. A mace-bearer stepped forward and swung hard and obvious. Govannon had a free hit, but his sword clinked uselessly against the breastplate. The [Dread Knight] swiped hard and Govannon’s vambrace shattered, flinging bits of metal into the air.

Only a display of extraordinary athleticism saved Govannon from a sword-bearer taking advantage of the other side. He jumped into a side roll, and landed in the perfect spot to push the other [Knight] away.

The mace-bearer tried again, and this time, Govannon dropped the sword and used both hands with his axe, a straight hit on the enemy breastplate. The armor held. The mace struck Govnannon’s own breastplate and made a hole that crackled and steamed with magical energy. Again, Govannon’s own sheer talent saved him from a sneak-attack by the sword-wielder, but it wouldn’t last long. Brin couldn’t get to him; he could barely keep himself alive.

Govannon charged in, straight and obvious, as if he were the one whose armor was holding. The mace-wielder was taken by surprise and whiffed a swing, leaving himself free. Govannon struck once, twice, and then on the third time, he finally broke the enemy’s armor, smashing a hole in the [Dread Knight’s] breastplate. The mace-wielder stepped back and the sword-wielder stepped in.

Govannon went back to his slippery dueling moves and tapped his opponent’s greaves. Only a glancing blow, but it cut straight through. He’d done it. He’d finally got that anti-armor Skill.

Govannon’s opponents stepped back to regroup, and that finally gave Brin the space he needed to act. 

Brin rushed over, reached into Cowl’s backpack, pulled out a smokebomb, and flung it into the middle of the skirmish.

The [Dread Knights], trained to expect all of a [Witch’s] evil, didn’t trust the sudden fog. They dashed back, used a consumable of their own to summon a quick wind, and then dashed in again. By then, Brin’s Lance was already running away at top speed.

Cid made a straight line towards the fallen [Great Witch]. He didn’t follow the natural roads or gulleys made in the wake of the bombs’ destruction. Instead, he dashed nimbly across the top of the wreckage, trusting each of the members of his Lance to do the same.

While they ran, Brin examined his feelings, wondering why he felt so little at the sight of Anwir’s death. Sure, it was good that he was compartmentalizing; he could grieve later. But that didn’t feel like it was it. It was like he really didn’t care at all. He’d hoped he was a better man than this. Now, while all they had to do was run as fast as they could, why couldn’t he summon even a tiny moment of feeling? Maybe it was too soon for sorrow, but surely shock and rage should be in order.

He heard a gasping sob, and looked over to see tears streaming down Cowl’s face underneath his helm. Only Cowl was crying, the rest of the men were stone-faced like him. That’s when he understood. Cowl, the [Knight of Burdens], was carrying their grief.

Brin blinked and looked away. He should focus on the fight. They weren’t going to get to Arnarra in time; the [Dread Knights] were faster than them.

Ahead, some of the bombs had been so close together that they’d formed a hundred-foot wide crater in the city, and pushed all the wreckage to form a big circular wall. There was only one entrance on this side, and the wall was a hundred feet high. They’d have to go through there to get to Arnarra, but it was good news. That was a natural choke point.

“We’ll tend the gap. Brin, you get that [Witch]!” said Cid.

They ran, and for the first time since Anwir had charged, Brin thought he saw a glimpse of victory. Or at least survival. The [Dread Knights] chased them, not leaving a single glance behind for fallen Lothar. Perhaps none dared touch him lest he reawaken, or perhaps they trusted that their [Great Witch] really had handled him for good.

A flash of heavy wings, and then Arnarra’s familiar was there. Only Brych sensed it in time, and threw himself behind Govannon, who’d been trailing. The familiar snatched him up and lifted him into the sky.

“A–” Cid’s order for their ranged specialist died in his throat.

Brin shot a glass javelin, but the giant bat dodged easily, despite carrying a struggling [Knight] in his claws.

“Marksi!” Brin shouted. “Save Brych!”

Marksi zipped off to give chase. That’s not what he’d had in mind; he’d hoped Marksi could shoot him out of the air.

“Leave it! Brych can handle himself! Get that [Witch]!” shouted Cid.

With a groan of anguish, Brin turned and faced the [Great Witch] Arnarra. 

He used to tremble at the mention of a [Great Witch]. Awnadil had seemed unassailable back in Hammon’s Bog. But now, seeing the twisted, burnt and wounded form of his enemy, he could only see her as an obstacle that he’d shortly remove. The combat potential of a [Great Witch] was all in their familiars, and if she had more than one, she hadn’t brought them along. Maybe she’d thought all those [Dread Knights] would be enough.

The real danger of a [Great Witch] was in their curses, but with the Great Conduit protecting him, even that was manageable. The physical act of killing her should be quite simple.

She grew wings, enormous bat wings, and a single flap lifted her into the air. Brin was still trailing glass he’d stolen from all the windows, so it was quite simple to form a pair of spinning blades. He launched them and they cut through her wings, sending her plummeting back down to earth.

Before she landed, she blasted apart into flapping wings again. Brin used his same trick and shot them with lasers, forcing her back into human form.

Now healed, she launched towards him with hands growing into sharp claws. He ignored the claws and stabbed her in the heart with his spear, driving her back and then pinning her into the ground.

He formed his morphic shield into an axe and drove it down into her head. She survived by shifting her head, sinking it into her body.

“You can’t win without me! You’ll never defeat Arcaena without my aid!” she shrieked through a mouth on her stomach.

“If that’s so, then I won’t defeat Arcaena. But I don’t want your aid,” said Brin. He formed a dozen knives of glass and plunged them down into her body while she tried to transform herself away from the spear impaling her.

“Lothar! Lothar will remember what he is! He’ll be broken without me to keep the darkness at bay,” screamed Arnarra.

“Lothar is stronger than you know.”

“He’s not. I know exactly what he is!’

Brin shrugged. “Maybe so. But it’s not like me and Lothar are really close buddies.”

Stabbing the [Great Witch] wasn’t working. She healed too fast. But she was nothing close to Zaff, because when he started carving pieces off of her, she couldn’t grow them back. She could only grow a new part out of existing tissue to replace it, which meant she was getting smaller and smaller as he worked.

“Arcaena… Arcaena will save me…” she said in a very small voice.

“I thought so, too. I was counting on it, actually. If your escape amulet had worked, you would’ve used it that very first time Anwir stabbed you. Then he would’ve concentrated on using [Knight’s Charge] to get away again instead of throwing himself away to kill you and everything would’ve been fine. Maybe openly plotting to betray your queen makes her less inclined to protect you?”

Brin honestly didn’t think that was the case. Pretending to be a traitor to draw your enemy into a trap was a time-honored [Witch] tactic.

He shook his head. “No, I think she just doesn’t like you very much.”

It was time to finish this. He scrolled down in his Lightmind and picked the Firestarter spell. He cast it on the weakened [Great Witch] and her twisted flesh caught flame as if it were made of paper.

“Free Arcaena… Arcaena forever…”

“She’s not listening,” said Brin.

“I… I curse you!”

The death curse of the [Great Witch] Arnarra was evil made manifest. It dimmed the sun in the sky and killed the insects in the air. The force of it bore down on the Great Conduit, and overwhelmed it. He felt the [Witch Hunters] gasp in pain. He could hear the [Weavers] screaming in fear. The Great Conduit disintegrated, and Brin used what control he still had to direct the curse to himself instead of at his Lance, where he could contend against it with all his resistances.

The curse struck hard and buried itself deep, but it didn’t save Arnarra.

You have defeated: The Great Witch Arnarra (60)

Level up! 46 -> 48

+10 Strength +2 Dexterity, +4 Vitality, +4 Magic, +6 Mental Control, +2 Will, +4 free attributes.

You have been cursed!

The Death Curse of the Great Witch Arnarra

-95% Vitality

Should he celebrate? Laugh, cry, fall to the ground in exhaustion? There was no time for any of it. He flicked the blood of his spear and assessed the situation.

He felt weak. Even as Mark in his old life, he’d never felt this frail. His armor was overwhelmingly heavy and his undergarments felt like sandpaper on his skin.

Brych was in the air with the [Great Witch’s] familiar. He’d plunged a dagger through its leg and was using that to hang on so that it wouldn’t be able to drop him from a great height. Marksi was scampering along behind them on the ground, waiting for the right moment.

Undead were spilling into the city from underground tunnels. No doubt the plan was to have them swarm any survivors of the blast, but since there weren’t any, now they would defend the city from the army.

The real army was moving into the city, but they wouldn’t make it through the undead in time to help. Already, there were tens of thousands and more came every second.

One such tunnel spilling undead was inside of the crater with them. Only around twenty or so had already come through. They were waiting for a critical mass so they could swarm him and the Lance without taking too many losses.

The Lance was holding off the [Dread Knights] in the choke-point, but that wouldn’t last much longer. Already, a few [Dread Knights] were scaling the wall of wreckage on the sides.

Brin began to plan the path out of it. He wouldn’t lose another member of his Lance. He was going to get them out of this.