Chapter 18: Deep Inside
Valens scrambled away as he let go of the Fireball, pulled his palms up and used Light Feet to throw himself back. He banged the side of his head to the wall, tasted metal in his mouth, sucked at his gums and swallowed the slimy spit in his throat. That proved to be one of the best bargains in his lifetime when the black streak flashed past him and stabbed into the back wall. It drilled half-way in and ground the solid stone into fine dust.
His stomach felt strange when he thought about an alternative scenario in which he was the one who got drilled through the middle. His skin was painfully softer than a stone wall, after all.
“What did you do?” Nomad rasped as he stretched a hand out toward him, Valens taking it and pulling himself wincing up his feet. “It wasn’t supposed to do that.”
“So you’ve got a way with these creatures, then?” Valens said. “Tell me more. As you can see, we’ve hardly had a promising start.”
“Incoming!” The woman’s voice had a harder tinge to it now that she stood all alone against the Ward. It’d come out of the hole and warped itself yet again to that humanoid form, two eyeless sockets gazing at the woman’s spear.
It moved. A limb flashed out from its chest and smacked into the woman’s spear, sending her reeling, shattering every bit of confidence she’d carried on her face. Her stance broke and the spear nearly flew out of her grip. She steeled herself with a grunt, pulled the weapon up and stepped hesitantly back, giving Nomad a biting glance.
“This woman’s gonna be the end of me,” Nomad grumbled. He patted Valens on the shoulder and raised his sword, green fog rolling off his shoulders. “Things happen, Val, and you’re not even level 50. No shame in that.”
“What about the woman?” Valens muttered, heart thumping in his chest. “I can’t see her level—“
“She’s 88. I got ten levels over her, but she’ll be alright. Promise,” Nomad said, and clicked his jaw. “I’m going in. Stay back.”
Nomad leapt over to the pair and slid slowly closer to the Ward, giving the woman a chance to breathe. He shrugged the green fog off his shoulders and let it splash across the ground in an ethereal carpet, armored feet barely making a sound as he moved in.
The Ward’s response to the new challenger was to send another limb forth. It lashed over with unimaginable speed, aiming for Nomad’s sword. In response, a sickly, slimy green tongue shot from the ground, and caught it in mid-air, dragging it closer to Nomad. He crushed the shadowy limb under his armored feet, and cleaved it away with his sword for good measure.
He let out a throaty, rasping roar, his long steel gleaming dangerously sharp. He dodged another limb on his way, moved round it and stabbed the sword into the Ward’s mass. The tip sent a shower of sparks about it. He ducked under a sweeping, screaming streak that aimed for his head, wrenched the sword free and brought it up in a nasty thrust for Ward's chin.