Chương 65: 63. I Need Your Help

Everything happens at once. I collapse to the ground as Draga cuts the stalker's limb free, my lifeblood spilling out onto the stone at an alarming rate. Bright lights flash around me as Talla rushes to my aid, only to be cut off by another fluorescent limb lancing out before her. Her floating light fires a sustained beam of radiance at the demon, but it shrugs it off without even flinching.

Draga faces off against the thing directly, but for every piercing limb he parries, the monster counters with another three and still has time to keep Talla from getting close to either me or Saban. How did this happen? A few seconds of distraction and now we're all going to die. And it's all my fault. Vi was right about me. Wait— Vi!

"Vi..." I cough, spitting up another mouthful of blood that immediately replaces itself.

"H-helb..."

"I can't!" she cries.

"Its leg is still in our chest!" Oh yeah. I forgot that there's a monster leg where our heart is supposed to be. Honestly, I'm amazed that we're still alive. I try to reach for the offending limb, but my arms don't do much more than tremble weakly. Well, shit. A deafening crack draws my attention to Talla, her pistol pointed at the monster. I forgot she had that. The stalker is eerily silent, but I can feel it screaming, the impossibly silent vibrations forcing me to cough up another precious mouthful of blood.

It redoubles its efforts to skewer her while it holds off Draga's attacks. It pulls a new trick, thrusting a limb forward, only for it to suddenly fold inward and emerge from thin air half a foot behind him. With a sudden surge of speed, the ranger twists his body to the side avoiding a lethal blow. He still bleeds, but his counterattack takes another limb from the stalker in return. Maybe they can win, but I'm certain I'll be dead before it happens.

The edges of my vision are already going dark, and every breath threatens to drown me in my own blood. I just wish I could do something. All I've got is the candle, but I doubt anyone's going to thank me for spending my last breath blowing them all to hell. Alas. Guess I'll die.

"[Don't be so quick to give up.]" I glance weakly up at the speaker and blink a few times. Did I lose my glasses? My vision's all blurry. No, that's probably my brain running out of blood. Which is probably also why it takes me a second to push through the delirium to recognize Saban. He doesn't look much better than I do. His wound has reopened slightly, and he's clutching his chest as he pants for breath.

"[Sorry about this,]" he grunts.

"Hurghlburghl!" I groan eloquently as he pulls the flaccid limb free from my chest.

"[Yeah, I bet,]" he chuckles, then sets a small crystal vial next to my face. The last tincture.

"[Don't know if it'll help, but if you don't get us both on our feet we're all dead.]""[Revitalization]!" Violet shouts the name of her skill like a fucking anime protagonist. Embarrassing as that is, the results speak for themselves—the hole in our chest knits itself back together, and I gasp as our smashed heart starts to beat again. Of course that causes me to choke on my own blood, hacking and coughing as I empty my lungs of fluid.

Unfortunately, Violet's skill does nothing to replace our lost blood, and as it saps our bodies energy my vision goes even darker, until I'm in danger of passing out before I can even help Saban. I hope that potion works the way I think it does. With shaking hands, I clutch the crystal vial and toss the stopper aside. The liquid inside smells strongly of alcohol, and there's maybe two shots worth inside. I toss the entire thing back in one gulp.

"Holy fuck!" I cough.

"That is strong!" It's like drinking rubbing alcohol, but the incredible rush of energy is like a shot of adrenaline. My vision comes back into perfect focus, and I practically vibrate with power. Hot fucking damn, if these potions are really just drugs they are good fucking drugs!

"Saban's turn," I say, staggering to my feet.

"I can't," Violet says quietly.

"The tincture is the only thing keeping us standing. It might kill us to do it again."

"Are you shitting me?!" I ask incredulously.

"He just saved our life, you bitch! The least we can do is return the favor."

"I know. I'm sorry, but I can't risk it."

"Ugh, you are the worst!" I groan. I spare a glance at Saban, who's still on the ground, glaring up weakly at me. Even I can see the resigned disappointment in his gaze. He knows I'm not going to heal him.

"Hold on," I sigh apologetically.

"We'll be back." I grab the super-charged candle and staff from where I dropped them and hurl a small ball of fire at the stalker. Now that I'm fully conscious and aware, I can see clearly that the ultraviolet light is working perfectly. I almost wish it wasn't. The stalker's shape is constantly shifting, and its limbs lance and scythe in every direction, including some that make my head hurt. It exists in more dimensions than we do, and somehow its fluorescence reveals the parts of it that we shouldn't see.

The fire skips across its glowing blue flesh, but then I clutch my hand into a fist and force the fireball to condense into a single point. The air next to the stalker's core explodes in a violent wave of force as I instantly convert all of its heat into kinetic energy. It rocks from the force of the blow, giving Draga an opportunity to follow up with a slash across its body, leaving a long black line of oozing ichor.

"[Allie! You're alive!]" Talla cries.

"Saban needs help!" I respond quickly, tossing another ball of fire at the stalker. It's grown wise to my tricks, however, and instead of letting the fire glance off of it, the monster implodes on the spot, vanishing from sight. At my side, Nipper makes the first sound I've ever heard from him, hissing loudly and spraying fluorescent threads straight up. I dive sideways without a second thought, and Nipper's warning saves me from being impaled a second time.

I don't have time to do anything but react as the demon turns the full attention of its flurrying limbs on me. Leaning my head to the side just in time to avoid a stabbing strike that nicks my ear, I spin the staff in my hands and parry another blow. Even injured from fighting Draga, its attacks are an endless storm of blows, but I force myself to weather it. Parry a stab, block a slash, dodge the attacks that come from impossible angles—I don't know how I'm keeping up, but I match the monster blow for blow.

But all I can do is defend. I'm not sure where the rangers are, and I can't afford to let myself get distracted worrying about them. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Maggie, I need your help," I say flatly.

"I can't do this forever."

"Oh, Miss Heartless wants my help?" she sneers.

"Clawed your way to the front and now you think you're the boss?"

"This isn't the time," I grunt with a frown. It's hard to talk and fight at the same time.

"Fuck you, Violet! Saban needed our help and you left him to rot!" She can't be serious.

"Is that worth our life?"

"Yes!" she says without hesitation.

"It fucking is, you heartless bitch! If we're that much of a worthless fucking scumbag, then our life isn't worth shit. I'd rather die." The conversation is such a distraction that I miss the timing of a parry and take a slashing strike to our leg, wincing in pain. If the demon wasn't wounded it probably would have killed us already.

"Of all the times for you to make a moral stand," I groan irritably.

"You—hypocrite!"

"Wow, you sure fucking got me," she deadpans.

"A-plus insult."

"Stop fighting each other," Allison interrupts, surprising us both.

"Violet, she's right. Leaving Saban like that was ungrateful. But Mags, Vi has a point too—we can't help anybody if we're dead. We'll make it up to Saban, but right now we need to focus on what's in front of us."

"I'm trying to," I point out, beads of sweat dripping down my face as I desperately try to keep up with the monster.

"I know," Allie responds shakily, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Keep it up. Let me handle the strategizing."

"Great," Maggie drawls.

"General Allison here to save the day." Allie ignores the jab and goes on.

"Talla and Draga are getting Saban out while we distract the stalker," she explains.

"We're on our own until they get back, but there's a silver lining to Violet's refusal to heal him—she's benefiting from her [Protect the Innocent] skill." I hadn't even thought of that. The rangers are higher tier than us, so I had been assuming the skill wouldn't trigger for defending them, but it also applies to the sick or injured.

"That's so fucked up," Maggie chuckles.

"Imagine if paramedics back home left you to bleed out because it gave them a buff."

"The healing skill is for emergencies, remember," Allie points out.

"And it's not a panacea either. Saban would still be injured even if we healed him—heck, we're still injured." My strength flags a bit at the reminder, but I try not to let it distract me. I don't know how much it helps, but I imagine myself pulling strength out of my skill like a well, concentrating everything I've got on fending off the stalker's attacks. It's not letting up. I don't know why it's suddenly so focused on us, but it's absolutely relentless.

Every single action I take, every movement has to be completely dedicated to defense. I knock a blow aside with the staff, but each stab I parry leaves me vulnerable to another, every slash I block rattles my bones and forces me another step back. I do my best, but I can't stop it all. Another oddly-angled attack catches me in the leg, and I stagger. The flesh wounds accumulate—cuts and puncture wounds that sap my strength and promise a grim end. Seconds pass, but they feel like hours.

My heart pounds and my lungs burn, my arms and legs are leaden, but my world is reduced to pure motion—action and reaction. As my arms get heavier, so do my blows. If my legs refuse to move, then I'll stand my ground like an immovable bulwark. I swing the staff with all my might, and my next parry lands with a resounding crack that sends the monster reeling for just a fraction of a moment. I press my advantage to bring the staff down on the creature's head—or body, or whatever it is.

The blow lands with a sickening crunch, but I'm punished for my overextension by yet another of its endless legs impaling me through the right shoulder. My shield arm falls limp, but I wasn't using the shield anyway. It will be difficult to keep up my defense with only one hand, but I'll hold for as long as it takes.

"Maggie, now!" Allison shouts. The monster's infinitely deep maw descends upon me, threatening to consume me whole.

"Eat this you ugly fucking prick!" I drop the staff and fling a candle into its face, willing all of the fire within it to transmute into pure kinetic energy. I attempt to dive out of the way, but I'm too slow—the candle explodes, sending me tumbling across the stones and rolling to a stop next to Nipper.

"Could you please stop blowing us up!?" Violet whines miserably.

"Kiss my ass," I grunt, forcing myself up onto my feet and scooping Nipper up onto our shoulders. I feel the stalker's silent screech behind me. Chancing a glance back, I can see that it's still standing, black ichor leaking from eyes and mouth—though which is which keeps shifting confusingly.

"Fucking thing's even more stubborn than Vi," I grumble.

"Maggie, the candle," Allie reminds me. I don't need her to clarify which one. The super-charged candle is on the floor between me and the stalker—dropped in the confusion. I don't know what my range is, but like fuck I'm going to run back towards the damn hyperspider. I turn to flee and the stalker gives chase. The first thing I see as I rush for the Dark Corridor is the rangers—Talla and Draga supporting Saban, whose bow is fully drawn and aimed straight at me.

"Just go!" Allie commands.

"It's fine!" Fuck it. I dash with everything I've got, straight towards the rangers. Everything I have isn't much at this point, and even the monster dragging its bleeding body along in its version of a wounded limp rapidly gains on me. It crosses the candle, but we're too close.

"Not yet! Keep running!" Allison's words are all I have to keep me going. One foot in front of the other. I feel a phantom hand on mine, urging me forward—but it's not Allie.

"Come on! We can do this!" Violet encourages me, pulling me forward. Damn it. I keep pushing myself, if only because I know that Vi wouldn't falter here. Even with their help, the stalker is soon upon me. I can feel its presence again, staring me down, promising that this hunt only ends one way. I ignore it and turn my attention forward. The rangers are just a few meters away—so close, and yet it feels like miles. Saban's eyes meet mine, filled with a fiery resolve. There's no fear or remorse in his eyes.

No judgment. I don't know how I can tell, but he doesn't hold a grudge. At the same time, he won't hesitate to kill me to save himself—it's only fair. His bow flexes just a fraction more—then looses.

"[Heartseeker]" A clap of thunder deafens me in one ear, and a sudden gale flings my cloak out behind me, scattering candles at my feet. The mere passage of the arrow nearly knocks me over, but the full force of it slams into the stalker like a bolt of lightning. The monster reels back as the arrow pierces it, carried backwards by the sheer momentum of it. It flips and rolls, limbs thrashing wildly before it can scrabble back to its feet—right on top of the special candle.

"Now! Do it!" Allison screams. I don't need to be told twice. I reach out with my [Pyropathy] but my senses snap to a halt like a dog on a leash. A maniacal cackle fills my good ear, and I realize it's my own. What a pathetic final obstacle. I tear contemptuously at Engie's leash, snapping it like a rubber band. Something inside me snaps at the same time, but I don't care.

My mind closes around the overcharged candle, feeling the immense energy within, roiling anxiously as though it knows it's not supposed to be so concentrated. So focused. So... orderly. I giggle at the thought. It wants to be released. Entropy has to increase. So that's what chaos magic really means. Well, little candle, I'm not like Engie. I won't hold you down. Be free. Spread your energy far and wide.

I hold my arms apart and grin, ignoring the blood pouring from my eyes, nose, and mouth, the screaming voices behind me and the ones in my head. It's just me, the universe, and the candle. I don't use Engie's pathetic black box. As I am now, empowered by Kiera's tincture and peering straight into the truth of reality, I don't need it! My magical senses gently cradle the beautiful little bundle of energy, and with the gentlest touch I directly unravel the magic holding it together.

A bright white flash blinds me a fraction of a second before the shockwave flattens me against the wall and everything goes dark.