Chương 71: Another Run

With a quick mental flick of my fingers, the unpainted iron frame of my Training Prototype-7 revolver dissolved into a cloud of stray digital pixels, vanishing from my palm wraps like a ghost. If I was going to successfully freeze a synchronized pack of five angry, health-bloated timber monsters in their tracks, I needed to upgrade from a pea-shooter to something with a lot more explosive audacity.

With a fast mental command, I immediately summoned the absolute heaviest, most cumbersome, and hilariously unwieldy hunk of metal sitting in my digital pockets: my Field Lobber Hand Mortar. The thick, primitive tube settled into my grip with a front-heavy thud, its deep cup keeping the volatile magical charge relatively stable while I braced my boots against the damp earth.

I hoisted the heavy iron handle as the five screaming log-beasts came charging right down our alley, their unhinged wooden faces fixed on my magnificent torso. Squeezing the heavy trigger mechanism, I let a precious point of my remaining mana pool drain away to manifest a massive, high-yield canister of concentrated magical energy directly inside the barrel before the entire weapon barked with a deafening, metallic roar.

The oversized projectile hissed through the chilly forest air, tracking a perfectly straight line through the leaves before violently detonating upon absolute contact with the leading Shambler's chest. The resulting explosion was a spectacular display of absolute thermal noise, erupting into a violent cloud of roaring fire, crackling sparks, and a thick blanket of grey smoke that completely blanketed the clearing.

Because these health-bloated Shamblers were still rocking some seriously thick, hardened outer wood armor, the fiery blast didn't actually dent their primary vitality pools all that much. However, the sheer physical force of the concussive fire shockwave was more than enough to aggressively disrupt their coordinated momentum. The entire pack violently staggered into one another, their trunk-like limbs flailing as the blast successfully slowed their high-velocity pursuit down to a pathetic, lumbering crawl.

I was just about to grin and congratulate myself on a flawless tactical delay maneuver when a massive, leather-wrapped hand suddenly clamped right onto the back of my neck like an unstoppable iron vice. Before I could even utter a single witty protest or check if my skeletal structure was about to be rearranged, my boots were violently hoisted completely off the dirt, and my entire body was aggressively dragged backward through the chilly forest air.

I blinked through the flying leaves and swirling ash, my brain temporarily short-circuiting as I realized that our favorite burly vanguard had literally stopped his own retreat, turned right back around into the active explosion site, and sprinted directly into the danger zone for the sole, incredibly selfless purpose of pulling my lagging rear end clean out of harm's way before the princess entirely vaporized the landscape with her spell.

"Reduce them to ash... Nova Volley!" June suddenly commanded into the chilly forest atmosphere, her thick, hyper-aristocratic British accent swelling with an absolute peak of majestic grandeur as she thrust her Scuffed Juniper Branch forward to finalize her grand elemental spell. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The very next millisecond, the absolute first thing that registered in my sensory department was a blinding, suffocating wave of white-hot friction violently tearing through the air directly above my ears. It felt like someone had just opened the door to a literal blast furnace right next to my head as June's solar orb of pure fire destruction streaked toward the clearing, trailing a shimmering tail of intense, warping heat waves that completely distorted the forest canopy.

The concentrated projectile closed the distance in the blink of an eye, flying straight into the center of the five lumbering, health-bloated Shamblers. The exact moment the orb made absolute contact with the wood-beasts, it completely destabilized. The resulting rupture was an act of pure, unadulterated thermal violence as the solar charge violently exploded outward in an expanding, catastrophic sphere of roaring crimson fire.

Shards of burning magical shrapnel flew in every single direction, accompanied by a deafening, ear-splitting roar of combustion that aggressively surged backward, rushing straight toward our position like an unstoppable tidal wave of pure heat. Before the blazing blast wave could turn my remaining internal organs into a collection of thoroughly roasted sausages, Dimitri's vanguard instincts kicked into absolute overdrive.

With a single, fluid motion, our burly savior scooped June up under one massive arm while still aggressively dragging my torso with the other, effortlessly carrying both of us like a pair of very uncoordinated sacks of laundry as he lunged behind the thick, sturdy trunk of a massive ancient tree to use it as an emergency blast shield.

The terrifying sound of the explosion roared through the wilderness with the force of a tectonic catastrophe, completely drowning out the sounds of splintering wood and crackling leaves. June completely abandoned her layers of condescending royal grandeur for a brief second, frantically squeezing her cotton-wrapped hands over her ears to block out the deafening noise.

The very earth violently shook and rumbled beneath our boots, the dirt floor vibrating so hard it felt like the entire digital of Eteria was actively trying to tear itself apart at the seams. The blistering, apocalyptic calamity lasted for a few agonizing seconds, painting our wooden hiding spot in a flickering orange glow before the intense pressure finally began to recede, leaving behind nothing but the crackle of burning embers.

I slowly turned my head to look down at June, who was still trying to recover some semblance of her majestic dignity while practically tucked under Dimitri's massive arm. It must have been my lucky day because she chose that exact fraction of a second to look straight up, instantly catching me staring right at her slightly rumpled royal self.

She immediately furrowed her pristine eyebrows into a sharp, deeply unimpressed glare, her expression practically screaming an incredibly snobbish and demanding inquiry as to what on earth I was gawking at.

"You know, we seriously need to have a little team intervention regarding that utterly unhinged, highly volatile spell of yours," I said, offering her a completely unvarnished piece of my mind while brushing a stray piece of charcoal off my sleeve.

"I am telling you right now, it is absolutely terrible for our long term collective survival if the entire party has to sprint for the hills like a pack of startled gazelles every single time you decide to cast a basic fire spell. I would highly prefer not to be accidentally cooked into a well done barbecue the next time I happen to lag behind or fail to run for my life fast enough."

June let out a highly dignified, deeply offended huff, her thick, hyper aristocratic British accent snapping right back into its usual intolerable levels of condescending grandeur and narcissistic majesty.

"If you are so terribly concerned about the radiant heat of my superior arcane dominance, then the solution is remarkably simple, you uncultured peasant. You must simply learn to move your legs and run significantly faster." I let out a completely dry, incredibly sarcastic chuckle, staring at her in absolute, unadulterated disbelief.

"Oh, wow. I am truly in awe. I honestly cannot believe that a stellar, world class training suggestion like that just came out of the mouth of a literal, certified slowpoke like you of all people."