Chương 101: 2.42 To Kill a Titan

Hector took Willa's SMG with him when he left; the idea of grabbing the titan's attention from a distance was a good one, but he didn't need Mathews's fancy rifle for that. He loped along the edge of the marsh, running for nearly fifteen hundred meters before he turned to face the rift again; from that angle, he'd put the titan squarely between himself and the others, and he intended to pull it further still. He jogged down toward the river, looking left and right.

There probably wasn't a more peaceful valley within a thousand kilometers; the hook titan, though still and unmoving, was like a gigantic scarecrow. Nothing wanted to get the monster's attention. Hector looked at the SMG, found the pairing button, and Evie connected to the smart optics. Holding it at arm's length, he trained the barrel toward the titan, then up, watching as the shot predictions displayed in his targeting window.

He was still nearly five hundred meters from the monster—well outside the gun's accurate range. Not even sure the rounds will get its attention at this range. //You'll hit it at this distance, but not hard enough to matter. Within a hundred meters, the bullets should reliably break the skin. // Right. Sighing, Hector jogged forward, keeping the river within a dozen meters to his right.

From that angle, the titan was awash with the purple-tinted light of the rift, and as Hector drew nearer, he got his first clear view of the creature's features. The giant was hairy, but it had a noticeably thicker band of dark black fur that stretched from its groin up its stomach, and then into a mane-like tuft around its thick neck. It had something of a potbelly, and its arms—long enough to drag the ground when it walked—were tipped with glossy, black hooks about two meters long.

He knew from training with the Invicti that those hooks were harder than steel and sharp on the inner curve. Considering the force the massive creature could bring to bear, Hector knew it would be lights-out if he let the thing score a hit with one of its primary weapons. The hooks weren't really meant for dealing with small bothersome creatures like Hector, though; they were what titans fought each other with. No, for Hector, the titan would employ its favorite tactic: trampling.

At two hundred meters, Hector slowed to a walk and studied the titan's face. It had deep-set dark eyes, a knobby brow that looked almost like it was getting ready to sprout a pair of horns, and big black-furred ears that might have been at home on a goat. Under its flat, wide nose, a large, tusk-filled mouth hung open, drool sliding from the corners as the creature stared into the rift. Hector lifted the SMG, saw the rangefinder said he was 170 meters from the titan and judged it close enough.

He inhaled slowly and checked his aura pool: 56/56.

"Here we go," he said, lifted the gun, and pulled the trigger, spewing seven-millimeter flechettes into the air and trusting the gun's targeting algorithms to deliver some hits on the distant, but gigantic figure. The magazine was half-dry before the first rounds hit the titan, and Hector kept shooting as the creature grunted and then surged to its feet, roaring. The bellow was something out of an immersion VR—a dinosaur's challenge or a dragon asserting its dominance.

It echoed through the valley, rippling the mostly placid waters of the little river, and sending deep-rooted primal urges dancing up and down Hector's spine.

"Run!" they screamed. When the gun's rapid, popping reports ceased, he dropped it onto the gravel-strewn riverbank and watched as the titan started toward him. Proportionally, its legs were shorter than a human's, but that didn't really matter, considering the overall size; it ate up the meters between them disturbingly quickly. When he was sure it was coming, enraged beyond stopping, Hector turned and ran, charging along the riverbank with everything he had.

The titan's footfalls shook the world, but it was a distant sensation—at first. As the steps grew nearer, Hector had to anticipate the lurch of the ground lest he stumble and seal his fate. He had a plan—if one could call it that. Really, it was a loose set of ideas that mostly began with words like, "If I can get behind it…" or "If I let it get close enough and then use Shadow Stalk…" There were a lot of moving parts, though—figuratively and literally.

Hector was tempted to put his new Shadow Step to good use; he'd tested it before leaving, and, really, it was just perfect for what he needed. The problem was its cost. It used a lot of aura, and if he messed up, he'd run himself nearly dry channeling a Speed Boost—critical—and his Aura Blade, without which he might as well lie down and let the thing stomp him. Still, if I can pull it off just right…

Evie was quick to inject some reason into Hector's half-formed ideas: //During your test, you missed the mark by ten meters. // Hector grunted his acknowledgment. It was true; he'd tried to "step" from one fallen tree to another, and his emergence from the "veil" had been a good deal shy of where he'd held his gaze focused. If he missed by as much with the titan, he might find himself emerging beneath a descending foot. Come on! Quit second guessing yourself!

//Some conviction before you shot the titan might have been wise… //"How…" Hector grunted as he jumped to avoid a tumbling boulder, no doubt kicked loose by the fast approaching giant, "can I be certain of a plan to fight something I've never fought?" It was true; he'd seen hook titans killed, but it was always with overwhelming numbers, high-tier aura attacks, and artillery.

The idea that someone would take one on with nothing but a blade—one of the most basic of aura abilities—would have gotten some laughs from his old Invicti unit. //You had several ideas—//"Enough, Evie; it's almost here." Hector glanced over his shoulder and saw the titan looming only a hundred meters behind. He doubled down, sprinting for the rocky slope that had been his goal; he was going to fall short. Still, he pushed, digging deep, pouring everything he had into his straining muscles.

His heart hammered, his lungs pumped like machinery, and his body glistened with a sheen of sweat. He felt alive in a way he hadn't in a very long time, and, despite himself, he grunted out quick, barking laughs with each exhalation. The titan roared, air rushed over Hector's damp back and shoulders, and the ground lurched as something massive smashed down just behind him. The thing had taken a swipe with one of its hooks. Halfway up the slope, Hector spun, sliding through the shale.

The monster was right behind him. It ripped its claw from the earth, showering the world with black soil. Hector's instincts took over and he poured aura into his new ability, focusing on the slope just behind the titan's front heel; he figured it would take a step with the rear one next. His pathways bloomed with heat; Shadow Step was a hungry ability, and it pushed the limits of his aura bandwidth. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

With that in mind, he knew he couldn't summon his blade ahead of time; he couldn't boost his speed—not until the Shadow Step completed. As hot aura spread through him, he felt a fuzzy tingling all over his skin, his vision flared with blue-gray light, and then the world tunneled as he slipped through the veil, sliding along a predetermined conduit. In a flash, it was over, and the world returned—hot, moist, bright, and filled with the roars of the titan and the shower of wet, worm-filled soil.

Hector didn't hesitate; his crimson, glass-like blade coalesced in his hand, steaming wickedly as he spun, trying to master his vertigo and nausea to get a grip on his bearings. He'd missed his mark; the titan's enormous leg was six or seven strides up the hill. All wasn't lost; the creature had taken the step Hector predicted, but when he'd vanished, it had stopped. He could see its shaggy head turning left and right, scanning the barren slope for its quarry.

Hector poured five more of his dwindling aura pool into a Speed Boost, and everything slowed, like the world had been immersed in thick syrup. Clods of dirt fell lazily from the titan's hook; its tendons rippled as its great muscles slowly bunched, and Hector flew through the air, his crimson blade hissing as it streaked toward the base of the monster's muscular calf. The hook titan was the size of a transit vehicle and a good deal heavier.

Hector had to leap to hit the spot he wanted—taut and rippling flesh, straining with the force required to balance and move a thousand tons of meat and bone. When his Aura Blade hit home, it parted the skin like that of an overcooked sausage, but the tendon was different; it felt like trying to slice through a half-meter-thick steel cable.

When his blade's progress jerked to a halt and Hector felt the titan's weight shifting—the heel about to rise into the air—he might have cut his losses, released the blade, and rolled away to safety, saving the last of his aura for a chance to hide. Instead, he doubled down, savagely screaming with effort as he yanked, trying to tug the blade through the massive tendon. Hector knew it wasn't futile. He knew his Aura Blade could do it. He'd cut steel before, hadn't he?

If it had been a regular knife, there was no way he could have held on, but the Aura Blade was as much a part of him as his bones. He didn't let go when he was hauled into the air, and rather than panic and lose sight of his task, Hector used gravity, hanging from the weapon as he switched the angle of his slice—down and across. He hung from the blade, jerking and thrashing with his entire body, riding the titan's step as it continued up the hill, looking for its elusive tormentor.

Maybe if his blade weren't so sharp, or maybe if the titan were a little more clever, a little more feeling, it would have known it was in trouble. It didn't realize it, though; nothing had ever challenged the creature—not really—and the weight on its leg might just as well have been clinging mud for all it cared. As the foot descended, Hector's blade finally pulled through; it was a large blade—almost a small sword thanks to the upgrade he'd purchased—but it still wasn't long enough to fully sever the tendon.

Still, he cut through eighty-five percent of it, and when the titan put its prodigious weight on its foot, it gave way, popping like an artillery round. Hot blood sprayed Hector as he fell back onto the slope, and the titan roared in agony. Maybe if the ground had been flat, the monster would have fallen to its knees, but Hector had pulled it to a steep slope for some damn reason, and the thing fell back—right toward him.

As the great shadow spread around him and the body rushed toward the ground, Hector dove forward, toward the monster's knees, hoping that he might find a gap between limbs. Hector's Speed Boost had faded while he hung from the monster's calf, and when the titan fell and the ground jumped under him, he wasn't even halfway clear. One of the titan's legs clipped his shoulder, smashing him to the ground with the crunch of fractured bones. He slid over rough shale that dug into his exposed flesh.

One of the titan's massive hooks slammed the ground just inches from his legs as it thrashed, trying to regain some balance, perhaps still confused as to why its leg had given out. Amid the dirt clotting the air, and the bucking, thrashing ground, Hector fought for some semblance of control, trying to scramble away from the monster at least long enough to assess the situation.

The titan wasn't making things easy; it rocked from side to side, sliding its ten-meter legs this way and that as it scrambled, trying to turn over and get its knees under it. The hook that almost killed Hector ripped a trench through the soil, and then it rose into the air, dumping cubic meters of moist dirt onto him. In a way, the ignominy of nearly being buried was helpful; it allowed Hector to orient himself, and he surged out of the loose soil, blinking and swiping dirt away from his eyes.

The titan had gained its knees, and though he wasn't sure it could walk, Hector really didn't know what it was capable of, and he didn't want to give it a chance to show him. He dashed forward, once again summoning his Aura Blade. Not for the first time, he wished he had a full sword's-length of blade—or even a lance like he'd learned to summon in one of his earliest archetypes. He made do with his long knife, though, charging toward the titan's sagging gut.

He ran beneath the monster where it braced on all fours, blade raised. Compared to the tendon, the monster's stomach was like slicing a tender roast. He thrust the full length of the weapon into the soft flesh and charged forward, ripping an eight-meter gash along the breadth of the titan's belly. Hundreds of liters of hot, steaming fluid sluiced from the wound, pouring over Hector and soaking the soil as the titan convulsed, jerking upward and slapping at its stomach with one of its massive claws.

Its reaction was akin to how someone might act if a bee stung them, but Hector was far worse than a bee; he'd opened the titan's abdomen, letting loose glistening, python-sized innards. He was drenched in blood, and he left a crimson trail behind him as he ran. The titan screamed so thunderously that Evie had to squelch his audio inputs. The ground shook, and he turned to see a hook planted in the soil ten meters behind him. Another scream shook the world, and the titan pulled, dragging itself toward him.

Hector ran. His body ached, his breaths burned in his throat, but he could feel his stolen regenerative powers at work, knitting his bones and mending his flesh even as he desperately tried to escape one massive hook after another. The titan dragged itself after him, leaving its life's blood and entrails behind it—a glistening, ropy mess that stretched fifty meters down the hillside. That's got to be enough to kill the bastard! Evie didn't reply; she recognized the rhetorical nature of the thought.

Still, the titan screamed and clawed, one massive hook at a time, after him. Its tusk-filled maw gathered dirt and rocks as it roared, dragging its chin with its powerful arms. Its flesh was pale, its eyes dull from lack of blood, but some kind of blind, vengeful hatred drove it on—hook, drag, hook, drag—after Hector. When he reached the top of the long, scree-covered slope, and he could see over the titan's massive body down into the valley, he slowed, amazed at the destruction they'd wrought.

The titan had left a charnel trail, a trench that veritably sluiced with its guts and blood, but it had finally slowed; without oxygen, even hatred would eventually die. It threw one final hook at him, striking the ground ten meters short, then it slumped face-first into the torn-up soil. Hector, heaving for breath, covered with blood and mud, watched the titan, waiting to ensure it was truly dead. After several long minutes, he stepped forward and put his hand on the diamond-hard surface of the hook.

It was hot, but it didn't stir. Almost hesitantly, he opened his aura system, willing it to draw the potentia that lay within the mighty creature. Even in his old life, Hector had never scraped a hook titan. He'd killed Praetorian-grade aura users in duels, though, and those enemies had been a hell of a lot tougher and trickier than the monster he'd just beaten. Still, when the rush hit him, it was rich and sustained, and more raw potentia than he'd ever pulled at once.

His corpus vivum was growing accustomed to potentia; he'd seen to that by infusing his bones with similite, but the potentia that rushed into him from the titan was still enough to wash out his senses. His vision went white, his ears filled with the roar of a waterfall, and his mouth filled with saliva.

He smelled everything, and his skin lit up with buzzing tingles that made his knees bend; it was all he could do to fall forward, into the massive hook, so he didn't lose his connection to the titan as his system did its work. When it was over, and he came to himself, kneeling there in the bloody, black dirt, he almost didn't believe the report that pulsed through his ocular nerve: //903 potentia gathered. Potentia available: 1180. // Grinning madly, Hector coughed, then spat a wad of bloody phlegm into the dirt.

"Worth it."