Chương 66: Rush

Through the haze of my own personal dust cloud, I forced my eyes to blink open and immediately locked my gaze onto June's position. The situation had officially graduated from a minor tactical hiccup to an absolute, unmitigated catastrophe. That first blurred, hyper-speed silhouette was still barreling through the dense undergrowth, closing the distance toward our resident aristocrat like a heat-seeking missile aimed directly at a very expensive, highly pretentious target.

She was still completely lost in her own magnificent world of high-tier elemental chanting, her pristine posture entirely unbothered by the fact that she was about to become the main course at a botanical buffet.

"Oh, no, you don't!" I wheezed, forcing my battered skeletal structure to cooperate as I scrambled up from the damp dirt. Adrenaline completely overrode the agonizing protest from my punctured left shoulder as I went from a pathetic heap on the ground to a full-on sprint. I launched myself forward, my Trainee's Soft-Steps tearing across the damp moss and loose earth as I tried to intercept the path of the first monster.

Unfortunately for my immediate survival prospects, the sneaky Creeper that I had just blown out of the tree canopy was an exceptionally sore loser. The spindly stalker was incredibly persistent, recovery-looping through the air with an erratic blur of blackened vines as it chased right after me. With a sudden, terrifying twist of its wooden wrist, it unleashed yet another high-velocity Needlepoint Thrust, firing a second slender root straight at my retreating back.

Realizing I was being aggressively targeted from behind while trying to save a royal pain in the neck ahead, I didn't even bother slowing down. I kept my legs pumping at full speed, twisting my upper body around just enough to blindly hoist my heavy Field Lobber over my shoulder. I began spamming the trigger as I sprinted, letting out a wild, continuous volley of heavy magical ammunition.

The low-yield canisters surged out of the deep cup one after the other, detonating with a chaotic sequence of sharp, thunderous cracks along my path. The violent shockwaves exploded behind me, throwing up a continuous wall of shredded leaves, pulverized dirt, and smoking chunks of flora that successfully forced my pursuer to weave around the localized disasters, giving me just enough breathing room to keep running.

Down in the main clearing, the explosive racket of my tactical retreat finally drew the attention of our frontline savior. Dimitri's eyes darted away from his shield, tracking my frantic trajectory before instantly locking onto the looming danger headed straight for June. The burly warrior's rugged features tightened as he instantly realized the nightmare unfolding at the edge of the tree line.

He violently leaned his weight forward, attempting to march his massive frame straight out of the frontline to run to her defense. But the universe was apparently handing out free restrictions today. The remaining Fungal Shamblers refused to cooperate, their heavy wooden jaws locked tight as their sticky Mycelial Tethers remained firmly attached to his legs, anchoring his Mud-Stomper Sabatons completely to the earth. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Right in the thick of the chaos, Aiko was caught entirely in the middle. Our resident, hyper-anxious berserker was practically vibrating with a fresh wave of existential dread, stuck in the dangerous no-man's-land right between Dimitri's trapped form and the angry, health-bloated Shamblers. Her tiny hands twitched nervously on the mountain-wolf hide wrap of her massive Spine-Breaker's Reaver, her wide eyes shivering behind her messy dark bangs as she tried to process the multi-directional disaster.

A few yards away, the thick forest ground shook as Fiona tried to force a breakthrough. Having witnessed the imminent threat to our caster, she let out a guttural, ground-shaking roar that echoed deep from the chest of her giant crimson predator shape. She bared her massive fangs and threw her weight forward, desperately trying to charge through the brush to intercept the agile vine monster before it could reach June. But the lumbering wood freaks were entirely too synchronized.

Before her massive bear paws could build up any real momentum, two separate Fungal Shamblers unhinged their jaws simultaneously, spewing a thick, overlapping web of sticky fungal roots directly at her heavy limbs. The pale, webbed tethers wrapped tightly around her crimson fur, pinning her heavy quadrupedal frame firmly to the damp dirt and grinding her rescue attempt to a sudden, highly frustrating halt. My frantic shouting finally managed to pierce through June's thick fortress of absolute self-absorption.

Her narrow eyes darted directly toward me, her royal brow knitting together in a look of supreme irritation that strongly suggested my desperate warning was personally offending her majestic ancestry. But before her aristocratic brain could even begin to process the sheer audacity of my tone, the environment around her completely shattered.

That terrifying, high-speed blur of blackened vines and necrotic ichor came tearing out of the undergrowth, rocketing straight toward her blind side with the single-minded focus of an extremely angry lawnmower.

"Oh, no, you do not touch the high-maintenance caster!" I muttered under my breath, acting on pure, unadulterated survival instinct. With a double-flick of my wrists and a lightning-fast mental command to my digital storage space, I summoned another set of weapons. In an instant, my trusty Practice Piece materialized in my left hand while my Training Prototype-7 settled firmly into my right.

I didn't care that the unpainted prototype revolver lacked frontline polish or that the scuffed flintlock needed frequent manual adjustments; I just needed a massive wall of immediate suppression to protect our resident royalty. I crossed my arms in a desperate dual-wielding stance, locked my eyes onto the trajectory of the oncoming monster, and violently pulled both smooth triggers at the exact same time. The double eruption of gunfire completely shattered the forest air.

My Training Prototype-7 delivered a heavy, consistent baseline shot that barked through the trees, its weighted grip doing a phenomenal job of absorbing the massive kickback so my sweaty hands wouldn't slip. Right beside it, the magical bullet from my Practice Piece tore out of the scuffed barrel and delivered a gorgeous, highly satisfying mini explosion upon hitting the ambient air currents right in front of the target.

The localized blast pocket filled the immediate space with a sharp crackle of concussive force and flying debris, lighting up the dim undergrowth with a sudden burst of bright energy. Unfortunately, the Rot-Vine Creeper possessed a truly ridiculous amount of evasive reliability. The spindly monster dissolved into a dizzying blur of motion, executing an erratic, high-speed Shadow-Root Dash that allowed it to twist and weave right through the crossfire of my dual-wielded volley.

Even though my bullets only managed to shred the empty air where it had been standing a microsecond prior, the sudden wall of explosive lead was just flashy and distracting enough to force the botanical assassin to alter its path. It had to halt its direct charge and recalibrate its predatory trajectory. It was exactly the kind of beautifully desperate distraction I needed. I had successfully bought her the precious window of time she required to save her own skin.

"Get moving!" I screamed at the absolute top of my lungs, my voice cracking under the intense strain as I kept my empty firearms raised. But instead of deploying her unparalleled genius to rapidly evacuate the immediate danger zone, June completely panicked. Her majestic royal mask cracked into a million pieces as she began to pace back and forth in a frantic, utterly helpless circle.

She shuffled her feet left, then darted her eyes right, her Humble Reed Sandals skittering uselessly over the smooth stone and damp soil as her brain locked itself into a state of total, paralyzed indecision. She couldn't decide which direction was safe from the impending horror, and just like that, the golden opportunity I created evaporated into thin air. The precious seconds slipped right through her fingers, and she didn't manage to even take a single, productive step away from the encroaching shadows.