Chương 359: Chapter 345

Launching himself from the room of the building hiding the portal, he began jumping from roof to roof, heading directly toward the kraken fight. Sam could have joined the fight on the ground with whatever forces the Blood Army had brought to bear, or gone deep into the blood cloud and figured out how to dismiss it. But, as the leader, he had to make the hard decisions.

Players respawned, and NPCs could be recruited – not to mention, Sam was sure a lot of players got emergency quests to save important NPCs from the system – while infrastructure took time, effort, and resources to rebuild. The infrastructure that their country would need in the future. The infrastructure that the titanic monster was in the middle of demolishing.

Sam had every belief in Katie and Isabella – plus whoever else was there – to take care of the gigantic sea monster, but he felt that if he could hasten the demise of the monster, then it was worth it. Bounding over the rooftops, he occasionally caught glimpses of fights going on below him. Desperate players resisting mutated abominations. Opportunistic ne'er-do-wells using the situation to their advantage. Personal dramas playing out in the middle of a fight. But he ignored all of that.

A few people – and monsters – actually noticed him flittering over their heads, but he was too fast and too well defended. Most attacks or spells simply flew into the air, going wide, while those very rare attacks that hit him simply either slid off his shield or were negated by a brief burst of void mana. Ever since he started playing the game and using magic, Sam had noticed a marked improvement in his multitasking abilities.

Even outside the game, his ability to pay attention to multiple things – albeit at a reduced rate – was clearly visible. Just like now, he could keep an eye on the target – the giant kraken waving its tentacles around – while also making sure to notice and deflect attacks with ease.

'The bleed-through effect…' he mused. The bleed-through effect wasn't as fantastical as most fantasy novels depicted it. People didn't gain superpowers or access to fantastical energies just by playing the game. Pods didn't exercise the body enough to gain a martial artist's body after just a few months of gaming. The pods did keep the muscles active with directed electrical discharges – but that was mostly to avoid muscle atrophy and numbness – not enough to actually transform the body.

Sadly, biology didn't work like that. But the brain-game interface did a few things. Due to the fact that operating the game relied heavily on the brain – and the brain's uniqueness – a lot of people would notice (or had already begun noticing) changes. Hand-eye coordination, reaction times, visual acuity, depth perception, multitasking – all of them were improved by the heavy load the game's interface placed on the player's brain.

It varied from person to person what improved, but if people played consistently and for long enough, they always had something that improved. These improvements weren't anything fantastical, but they were still noticeable. With pro players, it was more pronounced as the load on their brains when playing was much higher compared to an average player – as evidenced by his brain trying to dribble out of his nose.

While these thoughts percolated through his mind, he reached the last standing building – albeit listing to the side, with half of it already turned into rubble – and pushed himself off at the last moment, launching as high in the air as possible. During the ascent, he fixed his re-breather on his face – just in case. In that next brief and fleeting moment, Sam hung motionless in the air, supported by his wind magic, and he surveyed the situation.

The kraken was snugly ensconced in the rubble and destroyed harbor, the water churning around it as the tentacles trashed wildly. Each one leaked blackish blue blood, painting the already brackish water in darker, oily streaks. The kraken's skin was tinged with the same blackness, veins pulsing over its slimy, scaled hide – its giant, terrifying eyes glowing red instead of the usual yellow. Before it, in an area covered with a layer of finely minced debris, stood two women.

One of them, wearing spiky black armor, was enshrouded in a yellow aura, her sword's size multiplied – allowing her to wield a slab of deadly metal that was at least twenty feet long. She whirled it as if it were a plastic baton at cheering practice, parrying strikes from the tentacles, cutting apart giant boulders hurled by the monster, and doing her best to take the kraken down.

The other woman, dressed in much more modest armor, stood back, heavily leaning to one side and clutching one of her arms to herself as if afraid she would aggravate some kind of wound if she let go. Magic wafted off her, surrounding the first woman, but Sam could clearly see that she was on her last legs. Refocusing on the fight, he brought up his sword and channeled mana into it. He did not increase its size. He simply focused the void mana along the edge of the weapon.

The Sword of Severance enhanced the effectiveness and power of any skill used to cut channeled through it. And Sam loved to cut things with the void. As gravity began to reclaim him and he felt himself descending toward terra firma, he kept pushing more and more mana into the blade's edge, the black light growing so intense he had trouble looking at it directly. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Which wasn't a big issue, as his eyes were firmly fixed on one of the massive tentacles – its suction cups lined with jagged, deadly spikes – coming down from above, aimed directly at his friends. As if time slowed, he saw dirty water cascading off the tentacle as it rose from the harbor, its motion powerful enough to create a gust that kicked up dust and mist into a swirling haze. For a long moment, the tentacle and Sam were level.

He saw one of the kraken's eyes snap toward him – wild, unrestrained rage radiating from it. He met the gaze with an invisible grin beneath his re-breather. Then, with a single decisive motion, he struck. An impossibly thin crescent of mana – bristling with cutting force – shot forward, slicing through the air toward the tentacle mid-swing. The air screamed. Water surged. A roar shook the heavens.

Even though the projectile moved at near-sonic speed, he still managed to track it as it crossed the distance between him and the slimy, whirling limb. Then time snapped back. He hit the ground with a wet thud, mud practically exploding outward, water misting over him like heavy spring rain – and with a colossal impact, the severed tentacle crashed down beside him, drenching him in even more mud and filth. It slid off his lightly glowing mana shield, and his grin widened.

For a fraction of a moment, he admired his work. Then he was moving again. The kraken, finally registering the damage – likely delayed because of the foul magic of the Blood Army – let out a deafening roar and flailed the stump around wildly. The blood sprayed in violent arcs, mixing with the ever-present dirty water, coating everything in sizzling, acidic blue. Sam heard the hiss of corrosion all around him as he ran forward, dodging, weaving, and vaulting over the rubble.

He slid next to his friends, sent a party invite, and pivoted just as Katie charged forward, capitalizing on the opening to carve another wound into the monster's thick hide, sending even more corrosive blood flooding the battlefield.

"I lost my ults for the other one!" Isabella yelled as soon as she spotted him.

"I'm practically useless except for minor buffs."

"How long does Katie have?"

"A minute max! Lost count, but at most a minute!" she yelled back over another roar of pain and frustration as Katie used several giant rubble piles to jump upwards until she was in line with the monster's eyes and slash at them with the full might of her gigantified weapon. A minute was enough. The kraken was already wounded.

"Boost me!" he yelled and turned fully toward the monster. Instantly, Isabella surged with renewed vigor, and Sam felt the buff settle over his body. He took off at a sprint, enhancing his body with enough mana to become a blur of motion. A tentacle slammed down toward him – smaller, but still devastating. Sam slid beneath it as it crushed the ground into paste, the shockwave rattling the entire area.

He spotted a jagged pile of rocks – pitted from acid – and leapt onto it, raising a mana barrier just as a blast of high-pressure water struck. More followed. Sam surged upward, barely touching the debris as he climbed higher. He deflected what he could, shielded what he had to, and let his mana-hardened body absorb the rest. But with every jump and step, he got higher and higher – jumping from one mountain of rubble to another.

One of the monster's eyes followed Katie, but another – narrowed in rage – followed his journey. Good. He launched himself off a collapsing mound just as a blast shattered it behind him. He landed on a writhing tentacle as it rose into the air – and ran. Like something out of an anime, he sprinted along its curved length, magic anchoring his feet as it twisted beneath him. His sword was raised, and the edge burned with the dark-colored void mana. His body was wreathed in an almost invisible shroud of the same mana.

The kraken's flesh oozed a slick, evaporating secretion, forming a thin, clinging miasma around its body. Disgusting… He swung his sword, using all his skills to imbue it with all the power he could, aiming at the monster's eyes. And struck. Void crescents erupted in rapid succession, slamming toward the creature's eye. However, just as it would hit, the giant eyes of the kraken narrowed – armored flesh sealing over it like a fortress gate.

Still, the attacks carved deep trenches into its hide, drawing out more of that burning blood. The response was immediate. More barrages of dirty water. Violent and relentless. The tentacle beneath him convulsed wildly, the kraken's attempt to dislodge him. But Sam held on. Katie, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep the other eye's attention.

She drove her oversized blade into the kraken's body, used it as a springboard, and launched herself skyward before crashing down onto the base of a massive tentacle, tearing through flesh on impact – laughing like she was having the time of her life. She rolled, recovered, yanked her weapon free with a wet, tearing sound, and landed cleanly. Not stopping even for a second, she reached into her inventory and chugged down a health potion. At least Sam hoped it was a health potion.

But the momentary pain and distraction were enough for Sam to reach the main body, leaving traces of his passing on the thick tentacle, deep furrows of missing flesh and skin, acidic blood falling onto the ground like rain, leaving an even more pockmarked field covered in a disgusting mix of kraken blood and mud. He glanced around, making sure to duck under a new barrage while eyeing an approaching tentacle. Then Sam spun his sword in his hand, reversing the grip.

And drove his sword deep into the kraken's flesh, causing it to release a roar of pain as the enchanted weapon tore through muscle and hide. He then leaned forward, letting his entire weight rest on the sword– And pulled. The wound tore open. Blood, viscera, and some kind of black gunk spilled out, coating his already filthy body with even more filth. The roar intensified, shaking the entire world. He nearly lost his footing, but thanks to holding onto the sword, he kept his position.

He then channeled void mana into the sword. Cutting deeper. Expanding the wound. Tentacles swung toward him in rapid succession. Sam didn't dodge. He tanked them, conjuring shields again and again, his bones rattling under the impacts. He continued to cut. He twisted the blade, widening the hole. The roars turned into screeches of pain, drowning out every other sound. Sam clung there, half-sumerged in filth and fury, refusing to let go. His armor soaked. His hair plastered.

Even his boots squelched – and he could even feel the dirty water squelching between his toes.

'Sometimes I really hate the realism of the game…' Sam complained inwardly while letting the sword go with one hand. He swung with the motion of the beast – but didn't fall. Or let go of the weapon. With hurried movement, he reached into his inventory – grinning under his re-breather – and pulled out a spherical explosive. With savage ferocity, he pulled his hand back and then pushed the explosive into the wound he had created.

Then he pulled out another – briefly he saw the mushroom cloud symbol on it – then pushed it after the first one. The rest of the explosives he had picked up soon followed. Stuffing the cavity full of destruction. For several seconds, he just repeated the motion, stuffing more and more dangerous devices into the gaping hole until his hand came up empty. Reaching into another pocket, he brought out a simple health potion and splashed it into the wound.

He wrenched his sword out, planting his feet squarely on the kraken's hide, his shield still battered by the increasingly frantic barrage of high-pressure water. The flesh knitted together under the effect of the health potion. His legs flexed, launching Sam off the kraken, sending him spinning in the air, the tentacles missing him by a hair's breadth, and hitting the healing skin with tremendous thuds.

Sam spun around in the air, feeling a bit like a very dirty ballerina – and not in a good way – before raising his hand and focusing on creating a dangerously dense and razor-sharp spike of mana. Just as the tentacles recovered, the monster's eye found him. It was too late. The spike was ready. He let it go. The spike tore through the air, too fast for the flailing tentacles and water shots to intercept it. It struck true, burrowing deep into the still-healing flesh of the titanic monster.

Sam couldn't really hear anything over the roars of the monster, the destruction of the harbor, and the churning ocean, but he could imagine that as the spike went deep enough, there was a small clinking sound as the containment broke. A beat. And then– Hell.