V3Ch42-Confrontation
“You two finally made your move,” Kistana said, her tone deliberately provocative in that way she had heard King Tybalt use. She hoped that they would attack without a proper battle plan, or abandon their plan if they had one. “We were starting to get bored.”
Kistana nocked an arrow to her bow, the two enemies exchanged a nod, and the dragon lunged toward her, suddenly dominating the catgirl’s field of view.
At the same time, in Kistana’s peripherals, she was aware of the mummies and the Hero shifting into conflict with each other. But she focused on her own opponent and trusted in the mummies and their plan to deal with him.
Time slowed down as she took aim.
She loosed her first arrow at the rapidly approaching dragon, then quickly conjured and shot three more in swift succession, eyes carefully observing how the dragon behaved. Kistana would put everything she had learned from her first dragon fight to the test here.
Before, she hadn’t even been able to inflict real injuries. Not until the scales were broken by Tybalt’s efforts.
The arrows she shot were denser than usual, with more mana propelling them.
The catgirl heard the quiet cracking noise as the dragon rushed in, and they pierced the great creature’s scales.
Good, I can penetrate, her scales aren’t as strong as the old dragon’s, she thought. I can do this. I just need to whittle her down.
Kistana dodged under a tail swipe as the dragon’s body landed right in front of her. Then she rolled out of the way as the dragon ripped all four arrows free from her own body and hurled them like a fistful of darts in Kistana’s direction.
They thudded into the ground a foot away from her.
“Is that the best you can do?” the dragon snarled coldly.
No, Kistana thought. No, it is not. Just you wait.
She sprang to her feet, never taking her eyes off of the dragon. She noted the speed as the great creature’s shallow arrow injuries began healing over. It was definitely slower than the old dragon’s recovery speed, but the catgirl could tell she would need more wicked weapons than her usual arrows to kill this thing on her own.
Claws grabbed for her, but Kistana ducked and slipped through them, slid between the dragon’s legs, then conjured a warhammer from her crimson aura.
This was her plan B, really, in case the piercing weapons didn’t work. But she might as well see if it worked better than just turning the dragon into a pincushion.
Kistana slid to a stop behind the dragon.
As the great scaly head swiveled to face her, the catgirl slammed the warhammer as hard as she could, with both hands, into the middle of the dragon’s tail. She had already observed that it was difficult to penetrate very far past those tough scales. But if she could break bone with blunt force, she didn’t need to do piercing damage.
With the impact, Kistana heard the terrible, beautiful sound of bone cracking. The dragon let loose a choked growl, then swung a long-taloned claw at the catgirl. Kistana barely dodged around it, then swung her warhammer at the dragon’s wing.
The dragon pulled both wings back, then extended them, flapping once and leaping into the air. A burst of fire shot out of her mouth at the same moment that her feet left the ground.
Shit!
Kistana tucked and rolled out of the way, grabbed up her bow again, and conjured another arrow, this one a bit more complicated than usual. She turned, aimed in a fraction of a second, and shot a larger, thicker projectile trailing a rope.
The dragon dipped slightly and evaded, snorting with amusement at what seemed like a poorly aimed projectile.
Then the arrow split apart over her head and turned into a net. Kistana yanked back hard on the rope, and the net jerked back, wrapping around one wing. The long rope pulled the catgirl up toward the now-low-flying dragon.
The dragon flapped again, and even with one wing partially bound, she gained a little altitude. Kistana found herself suddenly ten feet in the air.
“If you were meant to fly, the gods would have given you wings!” the dragon taunted.
She grasped the crimson rope in one claw and used it to swing Kistana toward a building.
A Pillar of Earth rose in front of the catgirl before she could reach the velocity the dragon seemed to be aiming for - an assist from the mummies who were engaging the Hero - and she managed to run up the pillar and do a backflip.
She felt it, in her peripheral vision, as the dragon’s head swiveled to the side and then up to track her movement.
Then Kistana was on the dragon’s back. As she landed, she conjured a pair of small clubs and struck with both hands at the back of the dragon’s neck.
The dragon roared, twisted her neck at the blows, then whipped her whole body around, turning sideways and moving faster than she had yet attempted, to try and shake Kistana off.
Kistana let go of the clubs and clasped the rope between her feet as she was thrown clear. As she swung away, she materialized a new bow and arrows and shot three close range arrows, rapid-fire, directly into the dragon’s bound left wing.
The dragon let out a pained snarl and breathed more flames at Kistana. She let go of her bow and the rope and conjured a crimson shield just as her arms were beginning to burn.
The shield protected her for a fraction of a second before burning away.
That was the crazy thing Kistana had already learned about dragon fire. How it could destroy mana constructs, Tybalt’s mana-constricting chains, just about anything if the dragon poured in enough concentrated power.
But the shield lasted long enough for the catgirl to be blasted backward rather than possibly burn to death. Kistana slammed into the ground, rolled, and pushed herself up, breathing heavily. She had used a lot of energy already, but she forced herself to look up. Her clothing had burned around the edges of the shield, and her forearms were covered in burns that made her wince, but she had no choice but to keep moving and paying attention to her opponent.
The dragon was spinning, trying to fly unsuccessfully. She breathed flames on the net wrapped around her wing, but it was too late. She was already spiraling toward the ground.
As Kistana watched with wide eyes, the great reptile crashed right in front of her, unable to stay up with one wing semi-constricted by a net and perforated with arrows.
“Is that the best you can do?” Kistana asked, breathing heavily.
“Funny,” the dragon rasped.
She opened her mouth, another burst of flame igniting there, but Kistana moved faster.
The catgirl conjured another warhammer from the aura that was exploding out of her - she was always stronger when facing a deadlier enemy - and swung it straight up under the dragon’s chin. It hit like an uppercut from something much larger than Kistana.
There was that wonderful sound of bone cracking again, and a choked noise from the dragon.
The huntress felt a surge of pride.
Then a roar ripped through the air that felt like it would shatter Kistana’s eardrums.
She swung the warhammer again as a claw reached for her, but the talons that snatched her up snapped the handle of the warhammer instantly, like a twig, before squeezing Kistana.
The catgirl felt her ribs begin to bend under the iron grip. She had to concentrate mana around her chest just to avoid being crushed.
Shit!
Kistana quickly grabbed one thumb-like talon with both hands and applied all her strength to unbend it as best she could. A little space opened up, and the catgirl managed to shimmy her body out of the dragon’s grip and onto the ground.
She ran, and a split-second passed before the dragon unleashed another burst of fire at her. It seemed that Kistana slipping free had stunned the monster.
Not used to losing a physical strength clash, the catgirl thought breathlessly with a hint of triumph. Even if it was both of my hands against your thumb.
Kistana slipped into an alley as the curtain of flames followed close behind.
***
For the Hero, the battle proceeded very differently.
As he closed the distance to the first of the mummies, he stepped onto a patch of ground that felt just slightly loose - and the earth crumbled away to nothing. His feet spun through the air as a great pit opened up under him.
Chad saw the slightly smug grin despite the bandages that obscured much of the mummy’s face, and as the Hero’s head dipped below ground level, his lips curled in a snarl.
You won’t best me with simple tricks, he thought.
He wound up, gathered mana around his fist, and punched.
Air Hammer!
It was a monk technique he had learned some time ago, thanks to his capacity to master almost any skill like a specialist with a proper instructor.
He punched the air and shoved himself backward hard enough to grab at the side of the pit. With one hand, he launched himself out.
As he jumped through the open top of the pit, four mummies surrounded him on all sides.
They seemed to have expected this.
The Hero curled himself into a ball and wreathed himself in a shell of mana just as the rain of blows began to fall. Two of them struck with simple kicks and punches, while a third stabbed him with something bladed which dug painfully into his backside.
Chad managed to endure, grabbed a fistful of the lip of the pit, and with his other hand, grasped the hilt of his holy sword.
He drew in a split-second as a foot stomped on his hand, and he swung blindly at the closest of the attackers.
He felt the blade chop through something solid, and he sensed as that thing crumbled instantly at the touch. There was an alarmed hiss from one of the mummies, and then he sensed the foul creatures withdrawing from around him.
“His weapon is a holy sword!” barked one of the monsters. “Don’t let him touch you with it!”
“We lost Edwig!” yelled one of the others.
Chad pulled himself up to ground level and stood up - and a big pillar of dirt slammed into him from the side.
He was thrown into a building, then had to duck as two more pillars slammed into each other where his neck had been.
More earthen pillars shot out of the ground around Chad as he dodged, rolled, and crawled between the attacks.
The air filled with dust around him from the constant disturbance of the soil, and he found himself listening for the slightest sound, looking out for the flicker of movement that might give away the next attack.
He heard a gentle thrum, turned, and saw a giant crimson arrow as it pierced through the dust. The Hero tilted his sword slightly and deflected it with the flat of his blade. He had tried cutting straight through arrows before - chopping through the arrow’s head - and while it looked more impressive when it succeeded, it was a bad trick to attempt when one’s life was in danger.
And Chad had no doubt he was genuinely in jeopardy.
He had struck down one of their number, and though his only injuries so far were scrapes and bruises from pillars that had grazed him, he had no doubt the undead would do more if they could.
Another arrow thrummed through the dust.
No, two! They came from opposite sides.
A pillar shot out of the ground to cut off Chad’s retreat as he tried to dodge, and he managed to throw himself on top.
The pillar rose with him on it, carrying him above the dust cloud.
He saw the mummies he was fighting, and he took in the full situation around him in a split second.
Two mage types, hands glowing with mana, and two archers with great bows faced Chad from rooftops too distant for him to throw himself across the gaps to close with them.
And a long column of undead was advancing towards their position down the central street, led by a beautiful, raven-haired human woman who held a flaming sword in her hand.
Aoife was ripping through buildings as arrow after arrow shot forth from amid semi-ruined structures, invariably striking her body before her claws could block them.
Then the archer mummies loosed their arrows, and Chad’s attention was pulled instantly back to his immediate surroundings.
I needed the rest of my party, Chad realized dimly as time slowed down inside his mind. We probably would have made short work of these creatures if we were all together. They’re not at the level of that thing back in the swamp. Maybe going with just Aoife was a bad idea.