Chương 31: Losing Game

It was the most horrible game of tag he'd ever played. The five seconds of dodging attacks felt like a fifty mile marathon. Whether it was the Sanctum's oppressive effect or sheer exhaustion, his legs were struggling to keep up with his instructions. He saw a bronze fist incoming; he didn't even have time to shout at his tired feet to move. That burly kid when he was in the children's Taekwondo class. That bruiser he faced at the local boxing regionals. It was years ago but he'd sparred people with heavy hands.

But this punch changed the meaning of that. He tucked his elbow between his ribs and the monstrous blow. Even with the block, his insides felt like they were rupturing. He bounced off the bronze wall and staggered to a knee. His exhale turned into a hacking cough. The taste of iron filled his mouth. Something definitely ruptured. [Damage taken. HP: 34%] Son of a— He rolled away from the armored man's kick as it cratered into the dense wall. There wasn't a moment to think, no less curse.

Spitting the blood from his mouth, he scampered away desperately. At least they were far away from Alis, who was no longer in view. She was bound to be still charging her spell somewhere in the miasma. With all the noise they were making, she'd find them when she was ready. Delay, delay, delay. His eyes darted around the smog packed cavern, hopeful for any sight of his sword. Having hope was a mistake. The bronze being's right hook smashed into his barrier helm, snapping his head sideways.

Ears ringing, he barely regained his footing. He leapt away and spun with hands raised. A crack appeared on his glowing helm. Wirbald's magic had protected his head from being squashed like a grape. Fortunately, the cracked barrier still kept the lurking miasma away.

"Running like a scared pup," the bronze figure said calmly. His voice dropped into a growl.

"Face me. Did you not promise me joy? This is no longer combat, it is not even a hunt." Okay, hurtful. But the monster was right — Joel couldn't only keep running. Bit by bit, he was getting chopped down after every exchange. He had to offer something other than being a speed bag. It became impossible to breathe through his nose, so all he could do was heave for air. His gasps echoed within the bright helm as he kept his hands up in a tight guard. Simply breathing hurt, every inhale stabbing his side.

Holding his hurt rib, his hand lit with a soft light, dimmed in the lingering miasma. He only had half the charges of [Lay On Hands] available. It wouldn't do much but he wasn't in a position to be picky. He used all of it. — … [HP: 35%] … — A single percent. At least it no longer hurts to breathe. He couldn't afford to take more hits without activating [Berserk]'s last usage, especially with his HP doing its best impression of a skydive.

He hated how the ability seemed to take over his senses, rendering him almost witless. But it was the last card he had left to play; he just had to be careful when to use it. The creature ran at him, only to halt. With a sudden jerk, the figure seized, its body flailing and arms twisting unnaturally. Its head whipped back, neck bending one way and another. The armor and its runic etches warped like an ooze of heated metal. A separate face stretched from its own.

"Kill—" The scream cut short as the bronze man regained its shape, bent over and holding its head.

"Persistent insect…" the statuesque man muttered as its horned helm reformed. Joel had already closed the gap between them. He sprang forward with a jump — smashing a flying knee into its face. It was his turn to stagger the bastard back. He ducked its retaliatory swing, wild but still powerful. Shooting up from the crouch, he blasted a short elbow, flung like an uppercut, across the creature's jaw. Punching was risky, too many small bones to possibly break. So he used everything but his hands.

His attacks became a swarming combo of kicks, elbows, and knees. The strikes were unrelenting — he refused anything else — enough to push the creature onto the back foot. Some of the blitzing attacks were remembered from those days in the dojang and the gym. The others were from practiced forms and fighting familiarity from his [Martial Arts Proficiency]. Muay Thai, Bajiquan, 52 Blocks. Bits and pieces of martial arts he'd seen or heard about, though never personally practiced. The basics were all of his to use.

He heard the bronze beginning to crack, just like how he'd struck the sac with his cutlass. Refusing to treat that like the bell at the end of a boxing round, he kept the blows streaming. Every deft strike chained into another sharp blow. No cheap tricks, each attack was with his full weight behind it. In the distance, he heard the metal walls dissolve. Its liquid bronze slithered on the nearby floor, waiting to be pulled in with the miasma, to reinforce the armored man.

Joel had to keep pressing, never stop attacking. Darting to the side, he dodged a reckless kick and fired one of his own, low and fast, at the creature's supporting leg. The numbing impact was enough to unbalance the armored figure. Its head dropping low enough for his best kick. Spinning, he chambered his leg back. Eyes over his shoulder, he fired the turning back kick with all the force he could muster. A perfect headshot with his heel. A satisfying crack echoed out. Joel's head snapped back like he'd been shot.

A bronze cinderblock formed from the floor, firing straight into the base of his helm. The damage barrier ruptured further and toxic gas threatened to seep within. He brought his hands up to cover the splintering crack. The sneaky bastard, all that talk about combat purity — just to cheat. Guard gone, his mid-section was wide open. Joel closed his eyes and clenched his torso. This was going to hurt. Bad. He had to get [Berserk] up, but the gas— For half a moment, Joel knew what it felt like to fly.

The gut punch sent him soaring; dazzling stars exploded across his vision as he crashed into one of the underground pools. His back struck the deep bottom of the pool. [Damage taken. HP: 15%] Water leaked into his helm, filling it like a fishbowl, as he sputtered. He didn't bother to try stopping it, instead trying to scramble to his feet. He was slammed back down by a heavy foot on his chest. It anchored him onto the ground. He thrashed while water splashed around within his glowing helmet.

[WARNING: Prone (Status Effect). Tilt 2 afflicted.] The pond water began wetting his ears. Smashing his curled fists against the heavy foot did nothing. He took a desperate breath as his face submerged completely. Everything blurred, further distorting the bronze man that kept him pinned. While thrashing, he felt a smooth slab of stone — strangely warm in icy water. He smashed it against the foot over and over again until it slipped from his hands.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Shoving against the foot, he tried to slip from underneath. The armored man pressed its heel down further, squeezing Joel's air into a swarm of bubbles. His stifled lungs screamed for air, but only received more cold water. He kicked out, splashing water desperately as he struggled. A crawling darkness dimmed his vision. Until a burst of light broke through. The weight on his chest lifted.

Another flash of light erupted again. Joel broke the surface of the pond, but he was still drowning within the fishbowl helm. The water wasn't leaking out quickly enough. He dragged himself blindly, in whatever direction he faced. Another blast of flame sent him careening back into the pool. He couldn't tell what was going on as he crawled to his feet. He pulled his cupped hands into his bright helm. Sucking the air between his hands, it only provided a momentary respite. More fire exploded further away.

Alis was yelling but he couldn't understand past the sloshing water and his pounding heartbeat. A thin, wet film pressed against his face. Surprised, he jerked his head back, but the layer followed after him. His head popped through, coughing out water as he gratefully heaved air. An explosion ripped through the air again, shaking the Sanctum.

"Get up!" Alis yelled, yanking at his sleeve. Her wand hummed as she twirled it. Her bubble helmet spell. That's how he was breathing. Thank goodness. A wave of explosions rippled out, nearly knocking him off his feet. Alis helped pull him out of the pool. As the world finally stopped shaking, the surrounding miasma and dust finally cleared. Alis' amplified spell must have been frightening. Standing there, the armored man had been reduced to a skeletal frame.

Ash drifted off of the bronze bones, jutting out from its melted ankles. No more taunts, no more screams. He could hug Alis out of sheer thanks. The river of bronze passing froze them both. Purple-black miasma rushed alongside it, sucked toward the skeleton. Once reaching the ankles, sheets of the liquid metal layered and stacked on itself. It'd already begun reforming the greaves, etched with cryptic sigils. Alis' eyes went wide.

She unleashed another bolt of fire at it, but the endless tide of reinforcing bronze rendered her magical attack pointless. Over and over, she continued her barrage of peppering fire, providing nothing more than pauses to the regeneration. The bronze kept latching itself onto the skeleton. It'd already regenerated to its waist.

"Alis, we have to run!" Joel tugged her by the arm. If there was no stopping this, they needed to create distance from the mending figure. They dashed away, moving through the bronze that washed past them. His mind was spinning to formulate some sort of strategy.

"Can you do your spell again? That big one?" he asked while running. Her expression was grim.

"Can you hold off the sagani again?" She looked up and down at his bloodied state. They both knew that wasn't happening. Joel mentally beckoned his [Status] screen. As expected, he was still afflicted by the Imposed status. It was likely the same situation for the others as well. The others. That was their hope. His eyes went forward, spotting the bronze walls that dissolved into flowing currents. With the sheer amount of metal that was sliding off, they'd have to have thinned considerably.

"Do you think you can melt through the walls faster?" he asked, checking over his shoulder to see if they were being chased. They were far enough to make it hard to make anything out in the darkness.

"If the others are alive, we could use their help." Her frown told him that she didn't appreciate the qualifier. Still, she lifted her wand, summoning fire as they ran up to the wall. A flick of her wrist and a beam of fire poured out. A goopy hole emerged within the already peeling wall. Large drops of russet metal dripped down, joining the puddles at the base. Alis' magical fire was working well, but it wasn't nearly going fast enough. The burning hole only got a few feet in.

They were still at the mercy of the falling walls, each dripping layer scurrying off to reinforce their foe. Alis was doing her damndest to try and get through, squinting the sweat out of her eyes. Joel looked around aimlessly, searching for a glimmer of his Seahorn sword. Nothing. Instead, his eyes caught a projectile rocketing to them, displacing the miasma it punched through. He shoved Alis to the side, jerking his own head away.

A bronze ore, the size of a baseball, shattered Joel's barrier helm and punctured through the bubble helmet underneath. It landed with a soft thud, in the oozing wall behind. The bubble reformed its boundaries, pushing out the miasma that slipped through. He felt the helmet shrink to accommodate. That wasn't good.

"Keep going, I'll hold it off!" Joel moved a couple steps ahead, keeping his eyes peeled. Tilting his head, he listened for the stomping footsteps of the incoming bronze man. The torrent of flame behind him stopped. Alis had walked up next to him, chest heaving from exertion.

"Neither of us will last a second alone," she said grimly. Lifting her index finger and pinky, she conjured a small flaming sphere.

"But together?" Her glimmering eyes matched his gaze.

"Let's kill this thing and save the others." He couldn't help but let out a smile and a nod. Several more swooshes snapped their heads forward. A volley of bronze pellets fired upon them. Alis fired her globule of flame out, expanding into a five foot sphere. The rain of metal shards that passed through melted and sputtered away harmlessly. A bullet storm warped into blobs of molten metal, splattering against the ground in front of them.

Sprayed upon the ground like a pile of missed dirty snowballs, the superheated bronze cooled instantly. Brow furrowed in focus, she twisted her wrist and the large fireball shifted — the flame swerved and collided into any of the bronze missiles that attempted to curve around it. Pushing against Joel's shoulder, she guided his movement so that they were always positioned behind her blazing ball. It was a sick game of keep away, one that kept them from getting pelted to death.

The bombarding bronze was finally beginning to slow, the rhythmic patter became a sputter. Perhaps there were limits, even in this godforsaken Sanctum. Stop thinking like a naive idiot. Joel refused to be a fool, dashing straight towards Alis' shielding fireball. He leapt and leaned sideways, tucking both of legs before he rifled them out — the dropkick smashed straight into the head of the bronze man, white-hot and emerging through the flames. Exactly the type of nonsense it'd try.

His heels went through the scorched head, decapitated and disappeared by his attack in a sizzling spray of hot metal. He hit the ground hard, nearly knocking the wind out of himself, as he rolled back to his feet. Without a second thought, he bolted forward to the staggered bronze form. Like kicking a soccer ball, he blasted his leg into the creature's breastplate, still soft from the heat. It felt like kicking through mud as he sent the creature's body reeling.

All of it amounted to nothing as the armored man was already reforming, sheets of burnished metal and toxic miasma mingling together to rebuild. Alis, holding her wand out, tugged her free hand towards herself. The flaming sphere floated on top of the mending metal man, melting it back down to its bones. She grit her teeth, clearly pushing to maintain her spell. The sweat that soaked her face looked like the dripping bronze behind her.

Abruptly, the walls behind them cascaded down thunderously like a collapsing tsunami wave. However, the flowing bronze didn't sweep them off their feet. A deluge of bronze worked to reform the elemental, stacking upon itself to counter the searing flame. It was outpacing the heat. Both hands dropping, Alis let out a choking gasp as the fire ball dissipated. The bronze figure had already reconstructed itself to its neck.

Large metallic pustules bubbled until the faceless head of the creature popped out, retaking shape of its horned helm.

"How exciting. Who knew that such arcane fluency would ever be achieved by you mortals," the bronze man said, amused by the notion. It charged them with sudden speed, flying through the lifting miasma. Joel launched himself to meet the charge, fists ready. Before he had a chance to attack, the figure swatted him aside like an annoying fly. The backfist sent him hurtling through a stalagmite and crashing to the floor. [Damage taken. HP: 10%] Fury seethed through Joel, [Berserk] already working.

Even through all the anger, he had to sense to know that he was lucky for the Barbarian ability activated in time. He spat out a bloody molar before standing. When he got his feet, the armored man already loomed overhead, arm cocked back for a decisive blow. A torrent of Alis' fire blasted its head off, interrupting the strike. Echoed by clamoring walls, its head had already regenerated. Without pause, Joel tackled into the bronze frame, roaring as he tried to drag the figure to the ground.

He'd have a better time ripping a cedar tree by its roots. His feet left the floor as a cold arm scooped him by the torso. Like a tossed toddler, he was flung several feet away. Luckily, he had the wherewithal to land on his feet. He brought his hands up in anticipation of a follow-up strike, yet nothing came down. The statuesque figure had turned its attention towards Alis, who was still attempting to harness more fiery magic through her singed wand.

It was upon her in an instant, flying at a speed that was difficult for Joel's eyes to follow. It slammed the mage down, pinning her into the ground. One hand wrapped her neck and the other gripped her shoulder. Shaking, the creature looked like it was trying to rip her apart. Screaming, Alis raised her wand at the creature's face, unleashing a jet of fire to engulf its head. Its head warped slightly from the heat, only to be regenerated by more rushing bronze. Wake up and help her, you idiot.

Joel darted towards them, until a barrage of bronze struck him from the floor. Sharp shrapnel cut through his raised arms and hands, raised to protect his eyes. He leapt away as the bronze continued to fire at him, chasing him back. [Damage taken. HP: 7%] His right hand felt numb with pain. Alis' scream pierced through the haze of agony. He kept running, trying to circle around to them, as the bronze continued to bombard after him. The pit in his stomach threatened to swallow him. He couldn't reach her.

Not in time. Another agonizing cry, another plume of fire. Alis' neck was bending in a terrible way, her other arm being yanked back. Her wand finally dropped as she used that hand to pull from the creature's grasp. She strained against the sheer strength, her scream mixing pain with defiance. A shining hammer smashed through the monster's arm that held her head.

"Get your filthy hands off of my sister." Half covered in molten bronze, Siv was already rearing a second attack with the radiant hammer — cerulean eyes glaring with a cold, empty fury.