Chương 23: Two Ways a Noose

Markos eyed the burning town hall, rifle held in a death grip aimed at the welded-together doors. Peering from a doorway in a small bakery near it, he watched as the inferno continued to build. The building burned quickly. They'd splashed oils and other accelerants onto it in preparation, helping the entire thing catch alight quickly. Only the brickwork of the walls and the metal they'd put over the window kept the flames from going beyond the building.

The walls had been reinforced to prevent their collapse, which remained the only reason the building still stood. Smoke poured out of what few openings were left, thick and black. Even with them still standing, Markos could feel the sweat pouring down him, slicking his grip on the rifle. He readjusted his aim for the third time in the last two minutes, sweaty finger fussing with the device.

"Would you loosen up a little?" Ferat said next to him, the larger Scaverian manning his machine gun mounted in a window. He peered around the edge of an interior doorway to the hallway Markos was in.

"We aren't even assigned to deal the final blow, we're just here to slow the Juggernaut down if he gets out."

"That's so reassuring, thank you, Ferat," Markos replied.

"We get to die slightly later than a few people. I'm very thankful for that."

"You two always like this?" Gretten, Ferat's new assistant gunner, peeked her head over the window, looking like a canyon lizard peeking out of their dens when they got buried in snow.

"Nah, he's gotten a bit snippy since Trost," Ferat observed.

"You could have stayed home, you know. Hell, that general heavily hinted you probably should."

"I'm lousy at giving speeches." And it's no use staying in the rear lines when everyone else heads out. If we don't win, I live for maybe a few more months at best.

"You seem relatively calm, considering the Juggernaut is probably going to burst out of there any moment." They'd heard screaming from inside the building for a few moments. It'd stopped three minutes ago. Markos didn't know what the trap was supposed to be, but it was beginning to look like it had failed. Ferat shrugged.

"He's got a sword. Honestly, it's one of the easier ways to go. At least we won't get fried by lightning or have our eyeballs burned out."

Jake really wanted out of this damn town hall. Nothing but chasing down the rest of the flame-spewing Scales since that mildly exciting encounter with the suicidal one. He was beginning to feel tired, probably from just the mental boredom of being unable to do much. He was sure the one he'd been walking after was the last one. He could have run, but that was too much effort as the Scale's only offense had been surprise, setting Jake and the building on fire. The only real danger?

Avoiding chunks of the building falling on him. Well, no more worries about that. The last Scale was ahead, trying to force a burning door. End of the line as Jake strode towards it, sword scraping along the ground.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to let me kill you with an RKO?" He asked. The response was swift. The Scale sprayed flames at him, and he resisted the urge to yawn. Boring. Pointless. The jibber-jabber he couldn't understand being roared in his face by the Scale wasn't helping the dull ache in the back of his head. Jake's sword cleaved through the armored hulk of the Shock Trooper. His blow was sluggish, the blade carving through the armor in a second instead of an instant.

He had no idea why he was feeling so tired. Sure, the Scales were putting up a decent fight for their level, and the fire was annoying, but it hadn't been an hour. It hadn't even been ten minutes. He coughed as he continued through the fiery maze, the ding of XP for killing the shock trooper popping in. You have killed Maastricht Verko, Peasant Level 1/Baker Level 2/Soldier Level 2/Flamethrower Operator 2/Shock Trooper 1! You have earned 130 XP! You have reached a new level!

Finally Jake soldiered further into the burning building, pausing as a flaming wall collapsed on top of him, waiting for it all to collapse before forcing his way through. The debris was difficult to move, and his lungs and head burned. Had these assholes started using poison gas again? The one he'd given the chance at a free hit had tried spitting some kind of poison in his eyes, maybe others had some chemical weapons as well. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Well, they'd be in for a shock if they tried. No poison would deal damage past his immunities. But it would still hurt like a son of a bitch. Still, he had finally leveled up. Three weeks of fighting through that damn fortress didn't do it, but killing a few dozen of the Scales while on vacation did. Figured. He looked over the burning wreckage of the current house he was in. No idea whose, unlike the others, he hadn't Arrived here when he left Earth. Still, it looked like he was safe.

The first thing he was doing with this level-up was buying a sense of some kind. Finding the easiest way out of here was first priority. A wall next to him collapsed as the fire ate it. Swearing, he moved aside. Flames were going to bring the entire thing down on him. Maybe that was the point since Fire was among the list of the many things he had immunity to. He opened up the menu, and it immediately filled up his view. Unwieldy piece of garbage.

Okay, he had lost a few HP, probably from the fire, level-up notifications, list of kills… wait, why was his max stamina so low? He stabbed with a finger to touch the bar, seemingly traveling in slow motion it felt like. A warning, a debuff from a status effect? Mixed in with the other notifications. Trevor Clark attempted to Message you thirteen times but has failed from jamming.

No damage inflicted from last attack x 67 Ambient Heat is being countered by Heat Resistance 150 You are suffering from Asphyxiation at 87%! Oh fuck. Those gas masks on the scales hadn't been for poison gas. He quickly pinned the status effect before exiting the UI. He thought for a second about trying to find the shock trooper and ripping what must be a breathing apparatus from his corpse. But the way behind was blocked by debris. Too long to make it. Slash out?

No, taking out that much of the building would bring it down on top of him. He might be pinned. His strength was already dropping. You are suffering from Asphyxiation at 89%! He tried to imbue his blade with force but failed as his stamina drained completely, trying to fuel the skill. His arms felt like lead, his blade dropped, and he was forced to wait for any shreds of it to come back. You are suffering from Asphyxiation at 94%! He tried to check the level-up screen as he moved.

The damn thing was so unwieldy, trying to maneuver around it. He spotted resistance to Asphyxiation behind half a dozen talents related to underwater movement and breathing. Crap. No other option. He rammed himself into the wall, ignoring every muscle burning in agony with each step. He crashed through it, rubble coming down all around him, but he ignored it all. He needed out. You are suffering from Asphyxiation at 96% He needed out!

As his mind dulled and his body burned, he coughed up blood as his lungs screamed. He smashed through one wall into the next into the next. He was losing track, just knowing he needed to keep going. Until he smashed through one and what greeted him was the blue of the sky outside, his eyes focused on that and not the milling group of scales around him. You are suffering from Asphyxiation at 100%! Stamina has reached 0! Stamina regen is at 0% per second! HP percentage damage begins now! He just needed to breath in.

He kept going, hitting a wall again. He needed out. HP at 1100/1400 The rubble shifted, but not fast enough. HP at 800/1400 His hands grasped the largest chunks he could find, tearing them out of the wall. HP at 500/1400 He spent the level-up on a refresh. It had to buy him enough time. HP at 1400/1400 The wall shifted, buckled, then finally collapsed, revealing a blazing room behind. Pieces of the ceiling were collapsing as he hobbled forward, gasping for some, any air as he moved towards the wall.

This had to lead out. HP at 1100/1400 It was still draining in chunks as he rammed through another wall. HP at 800/1400. No level-ups left. HP drain predicted to kill. Prequisites met. Passive Spell Killswitch has been activated on you.

The impact of the upper stories falling into the lower stories hammered across the town square, Markos wincing as it rammed into his ears. He had to give it to the engineers, they knew how to rig a collapse. Every wall and piece had fallen inwards, collapsing in on itself instead of outwards.

"They should move us somewhere else," he muttered.

"We're wasted here."

"What, you want to join the outer town detail? Or everyone else who is currently underground while the Stormsummoner gets distracted by AA guns?" Ferat spat over the windowsill, a stream of acid burning at the pavement beyond.

"Let's just settle down and wait." Gretten chuckled.

"I'm with the suicidal one. This is too tense. I keep half-expecting the entire building to go flying toward us. Besides, the Juggernaut could wait inside there for-" One of the walls exploded outward, the brickwork of the town hall spraying across the town square as flames roared out from the burning building. Markos snatched his rifle up as a figure moved through the flames, running out of the flames and debris. The Juggernaut stumbled out of the flames, dropping his blade, hands reaching for his helmet.

It ripped off, revealing their enemy's head was exposed, red, and strained. The Juggernaut struggled to inhale, choking, gasping. The human fell to the ground. Everything was still, no one moving. Heartbeats passed, and then Markos moved from the door. He wasn't the only one. A dozen others moved in, guns at the ready, trained on the motionless body of the Juggernaut. Pale and unmoving, the Juggernaut didn't appear to be breathing.

"Is he moving?"

"Someone poke the fucker." Markos considered doing it, but a corporal got there first, the toe of her boot ramming into the side of the Juggernaut's head. No reaction. Markos poked his cheek with the muzzle of his gun. Still nothing.

"His nostrils ain't moving. If he isn't dead, he's damn good at faking."

"Someone radio the major," A lieutenant ordered.

"The asphyxiation plan worked out. His last breath out here must have failed to outpace the damage tick." That had been the plan then. Choking him out.

"The Major wants this carcass strung up and mutilated. Someone secure that weapon now!" The officer's orders were distant in Markos' ears as he considered the face below him, frozen in a mixture of fear and desperation. A Traveler had died.