Chương 17: Chapter 16

The Brute's muscles bulged, tearing the Tether from his head and ripping off a small tuft of flesh in the process. Its smile widened, revealing an uneven row of sharpened teeth. Perfectly suited for shearing through human bone.

"You kill my son," the Brute said, the words coming out thick and heavy. Corin was surprised the thing could talk, but its words were even more surprising. He realized the Brute was talking about the goblin he'd impaled on the spear, back at the ambush.

"Maybe he shouldn't have tried to kill me," Corin replied.

"No worry. Me do that now," the Brute said, taking a few initial steps toward him.

"Me eat you from feet up." Corin had a brief, vivid visualization of the act, and did not find it in any way pleasing. He checked his mana: [Mana: 34/40] The thing could kill him in one good hit, maybe two. The Brute began dragging its mace toward him, a mound of dirt piling in its wake. Corin stared at the size of the thing. Definitely one hit, not two.

He had two stat points after his level up (after he'd turned the goblin he fell on into a puddle), so he quickly put them into Wisdom instead, as more mana would be far more useful than more HP. He checked again: [Mana: 42/50] Better than nothing. The Brute started to twist, readying a swing, then suddenly flinched, glancing at a Mind Blast hurtling toward it.

The Brute grabbed the nearest goblin, using it as a shield to take the full brunt of the blast, then flung it at the caster who'd fired it, the same one who'd thrown Corin the mana potion. The impact shot him back and knocked him instantly unconscious, or perhaps killed him outright. This all happened before Corin could even react, which did not bode particularly well for his imminent hand-to-mace - or more likely face-to-mace - combat.

He saw another burst of fire in the distance, and hoped Bran would clear up quickly enough to come save him again. The mace swung at him, Corin dodging by inches, the force of its momentum nearly throwing him off his balance. It came at him again and again, moving far faster than it had any right to, a statement unfortunately not also ascribed to Corin.

The only real option at the forefront of his mind - run - wasn't exactly appealing this time either, as his last attempt at fleeing had ended with a spear through his spleen. Facing the Brute head-on was, somehow, his safest option. The Brute was growing in frustration, the swings of his mace growing more and more violent." Fight me, human," the Brute said through gritted teeth.

"Fight me like man." He brought the mace directly downwards, where Corin was until very recently there, and would have certainly no longer been anywhere had it connected.

"Doesn't seem like a fair fight," Corin replied, already breathing heavily.

"Me no like fair fight," the Brute replied, Corin briefly shocked to find that they shared a kindred philosophy. Another blow, wide this time, sent the Brute overstepping, losing its balance and lurching forward. Corin seized the moment, Tethering its forehead to its own knee and snapping his hand shut - driving its face down into the armored joint, the impact snapping its head back up in a spray of blood. The Brute spat out a mouthful of it, the smile widening even further (how much face did this thing have left?), revealing a few broken, bloody teeth.

"Smart," the Brute said.

"Good. Smart brain taste better." The Brute swung its mace in a sharp, wide arc, Corin leaping backward to avoid it - but the Brute let the swing carry him, using its momentum to spin his whole body around, the back of his fist crashing into the side of Corin's head with the force of the entire rotation behind it. Corin careened backward, the blow nearly taking his head clean off, and slammed into the wet grass several meters away. Immensely dazed, he tried to raise his head, and it felt... loose.

Like something inside his skull had come apart. Loose head no good. The Brute took a few slow steps toward him as Corin desperately tried to push himself up, falling twice over. He was completely disoriented, like a downed duelist trying to rise mid-bout, his legs simply refusing to answer. The Brute stood over him, fingers wrapping around the mace's handle, raising it for a final blow. A massive grin broke out across Corin's face." Finally got you right where I want you."

The Brute faltered, looking at him in confusion.

"What you mean?" it asked, mace hovering above him. Corin stared at him for a few seconds, the silence rapidly going from ominous to awkward.

"I... I don't know," Corin eventually said.

"I was just hoping to throw you off." The Brute let out a harsh laugh.

"You die now," it said, arm cocking backward to ready the blow, then swinging it forward toward Corin- [Empowered Tether cast!] A Tether formed between the Brute's swinging shoulder and forearm, Corin snapping the two points together, wrenching the mace inward in a tight arc back toward its own owner - the hilt slamming into its face and sending another spray of blood flying. The Brute staggered back two steps, disoriented, then looked at Corin with a furious rage.

"Wanna try swing that mace at me again?" Corin said, both his confidence and composure growing. The Brute briefly glanced between Corin and the mace in its hand.

"No," it said, opening its fist and letting the mace fall, sinking half-buried into the dirt. It took a step toward him instead. Stolen story; please report.

"Me kill you with me hands." Corin, the sudden absence of all confidence and composure acutely apparent, desperately fired off a Spark and a Bolt at it, both proving eminently less than useful. He flung his free hand backward, casting a Tether toward a nearby house, and snapped his hand closed just as the Brute reached for him. It caught his ankle just as the Tether pulled taut, the sudden opposing force dislocating his shoulder once more, before snapping the line.

The Brute flexed, and Corin's ankle gave way beneath its fingers as easily as wet clay. Corin. Fuckin'. Screamed.

"Like me say," the Brute said, roughly dragging Corin towards him, " feet first." Corin flailed wildly as the Brute lifted him by the ankle, desperately trying to fight or run or do anything to stop the horror about to become his reality. It brought his limp foot toward its open jaws, wide enough to lop it off in a single bite, chipped shards of teeth catching in the firelight.

"No no fucking NO!" The Brute smiled, then brought its teeth down. They effortlessly crushed through bone, Corin screaming in terror and agony - then the Brute went rigid, teeth still buried in flesh, completely still. The Brute collapsed, landing forward directly onto Corin, doing perhaps more damage than the mace would have.

Corin looked up to see Lionel standing over it, breathing heavily and covered in slashes and blood, his < Voltguarded > rapier jutting from the back of the Brute's neck - driven clean through its spinal cord. [Goblin Brute (Lv. 32) slain!] [Loot dropped: Goblin Brute Mace {Uncommon}] [You have gained extra XP for helping kill a monster far above your level!] [You have leveled up! 13 → 14] [You have leveled up! 14 → 15] [XP shared] [+4 stat points available] The Brute's jaws now slack, Corin reached forward and dragged its teeth out of his shattered, ruined ankle, letting out a yelp of pain as he did so. Then, Lionel held out his hand, and Corin took it, lifting himself up and staggering on his still-crushed ankle, hopping twice before placing his weight on his good leg. Lionel was far more intact compared to when he'd left him. Turns out being able to afford incredibly potent healing potions had its advantages.

"Looked like you needed some help," Lionel said, that fucking smirk on his face again.

"Looked like you needed some help," Corin countered, feeling awfully conflicted.

"I'm the reason that Brute didn't turn you into mush." Lionel glanced back down at the Brute, then Corin's ruined ankle.

"Better turned to mush than eaten feet-first." Corin tried to think of a clever reply, then realized that it was a pretty astute point. He instead focused on putting his four new stat points into Wisdom, putting him at 70 max mana, then looked into the distance, the bursts of flame bigger now, more erratic.

"I need to get to Bran," Corin said, taking a half-step forwards and almost falling.

"Why?" Corin briefly considered telling Lionel about the Blade of Eternal Fury, but figured he had neither the time nor the reason to. Instead, he started half-stepping toward the fight, letting out muffled cries of pain with every step. Lionel sighed.

"Put your arm around me, you fucking cripple," Lionel said, grabbing his rapier from the Brute's neck and wrapping his free arm around Corin.

"Let's go." Corin limped in agony toward the battle, several adventurers lying dead among throngs of fallen goblins. Bran stood breathing erratically, the blade in his hands already burning his own arms. Not a single goblin remained alive, but he still held the sword aloft, poised for a fight that no longer existed.

"Bran!" Corin cried out, and Bran did not look backwards.

"The blade - don't let it control you!"

"Who are you to say what controls me?" Bran said, turning to face them.

"Who are you to challenge me?"

"Bran, the sword-" Bran charged forward and swung at Corin, the arc clean, both hands driving down toward the earth at the end of it with a deathly, certain finality. He looked down. His hands were completely empty. Bran blinked, glancing around in confusion, then met Corin's eyes - who stood with his Bag of Holding open wide in both hands.

"It was my item," Corin said, holding up the bag almost apologetically.

"I just put it back in my inventory. Sorry about that." Bran blinked a few more times, then glanced at the devastation around him.

"Did I do this?" he asked, looking at the multitudes of dead goblins... then the dead adventurers.

"Did I do this?" Corin hobbled towards him, placing his hand on Bran's shoulder.

"We need to stop the goblins at the gate winch," Corin said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"They're still trying to open the gate." Bran glanced toward it, shook his head once more, then turned to them.

"Let's go." Corin gestured toward his ankle - what remained of it - once more somewhat-apologetically. Bran reached into his belt pouch, tossing a red vial toward him.

"Drink," he said, after seeing Corin's confused expression.

"And join us when you can." Corin wasted no time, gulping the vial down and feeling a wave of vigor wash through him as his ankle and various wounds began to close over. He put an experimental amount of weight on it. Tolerable, barely. [Healing Potion {Uncommon} consumed: Restores up to 100 HP over time] [HP recovery: 10/s] [Satiety: 94/100] Bran and Lionel left without a word, both running toward the winch. Corin tried to step forward and nearly fell over.

He watched them race for the stairs on the far side of the wall, just as the gate began to open once more. We don't have time. Corin sighed, glanced around, and let an unfortunate (but altogether necessary) plan take shape. He trudged, then walked, then ran toward the winch, his ankle healing as he went, shooting a Tether at a nearby building as he jumped, snapping his hand closed and flinging himself up to the second story.

From there he leaped across to the next building, landing in a heavy roll, then Tethered himself directly toward the wall. The assembled goblins were hauling at the winch, having finally worked the jammed sword free after immense effort and even more cursing. They all strained and pushed, the gate relenting and beginning to move once more - then one goblin suddenly lurched forward, yanked by something attached to its chest, and pitched face-first into the grinding mechanism.

Its scream was soon replaced by the loud cracks of shattering bone, accompanied by the gears grinding to a halt once more. [Goblin (Lv. 4) slain!] The remaining goblins turned toward the noise, and found Corin standing with arm raised.

"Sorry, I know it must be frustrating for you," Corin said, sincerely meaning it. The goblins all cried out in rage, launching themselves at him - before Bran's fist rocked one in mid-air, throwing it clean off the edge of the wall. Lionel followed with a rapier to another's heart, twisting it free before introducing it to a third goblin's kidney. The rest fell fast between the two of them, Corin searching for an opening or opportunity to help and finding none.

After the short battle, they both stared at him in shock.

"How'd you get here so quickly?" Bran asked, but Corin was already walking past him toward the winch.

"Help me with this bastard," Corin said, trying to drag the smooshed remains of the goblin free. The two of them joined his efforts, carefully clearing broken shards of bone and viscera from the gears, until finally the winch turned once more, now in the opposite direction. The gates gradually ground shut as the cries of goblins fleeing slowly faded to nothing. Corin looked out over the wall, at the burning devastation, at the multitude of corpses - and at the city, still somehow standing.

He let out a sigh of relief. A sudden notification popped up to greet the new day: [DEBT - LIONEL] Owed: 15gc Asset total (estimate): 80gc, 3cc Available funds: 3cc Due: 0 days (due today) Corin glanced at Lionel, some part of him more afraid of the man than he'd been of the Brute he'd killed. The Brute, at least, had only wanted him dead quickly.

"About my debt..."