Chương 21: Chapter 20: Under-Leveled

The Hawks marched down the hall. Two more Silvers, one Early and the other Mid. Even though they were dressed in the same studded leather and kettle hats at the ones in the lower basin, their eyes scanned the halls with extra ferocity. One gritted his teeth, sword at the ready as he caught the pulsating green crystal lying in the middle of the hallway. The other peered around a corner, no doubt wondering where the trespassers went. An arrow flew from the darkness, taking the Mid Silver from behind.

His Early neighbor could only glance back before Torin rushed from his shadow. His dagger slid through the base of the jaw, directly into the brain.

"Nice kill," Casmia said, jogging back into the open. It wasn't. Torin had actually failed to kill that guard five times and only succeeded on the sixth attempt. [Battle-Sighted] warned about the failures before they happened, however, so only the last strike counted. They quickly rushed down the hall. Shouts echoed behind as more Hawks found their most recent kills. This was bad. Very, very bad. The Roost of Cranes sat in the State District.

At this level, every single Hawk—from the highest captain to the man stamping passports at the teleportation arrays—were all a minimum of Silver-Ranked. Casmia was at the higher tier of this range, but Torin still had not cracked Peak Bronze. Even with the advantages given to him, he was fighting well above his power level. He still remembered his brawl against Braxus, who had only been Early Silver. What would he do if a mob of that strength closed in?

Worse yet, the battery they needed broke, and they had no lightning energy to feed into the Planar Fragment. If there was any hope of escaping, it would be through it. But without a working battery, what else could they use? The strange artifact also radiated an unnatural glow, but there was nothing to be done. The Fragment contained extradimensional space and could not be placed inside Casmia's Spatial Sack or both would implode.

They had no choice but to keep running in the hopes of coming up with an alternate escape. More guards entered the hall with a shout. Casmia eliminated one, but the others leapt into cover. His booming voice called for reinforcements, another stairwell now cut off from them. Rain pattered against the windows, distant thunder rolling. The pair briefly froze, both thinking the same thing.

"The roof?" Casmia asked.

"And hope that a bolt of lightning just happens to strike? What do you think the odds are of that?"

"Better than staying here until Golds are sent in. So, unless you have a better idea…"

"I do," Torin said, no longer looking at the window, but at the garbage chute whence they came.

"How many more smoke bombs do you have left?" She checked her pouch.

"Four."

"Use all of them. Cover both sides while I pry open the exit to the rooftop."

"I thought we weren't going there." He twirled the prying bar in hand.

"We aren't." More shouts echoed, but they disappeared inside a cloud of billowing smoke. Casmia did as requested while Torin quickly ripped through the rooftop lock. But he didn't step through, instead doubling back to the garbage chute. With his arms tucked tight, he squeezed back inside. Casmia followed. Both plummeted below.

"The roof!" a distant Hawk shouted.

"They're going for the roof…!" Their bodies skidded through the chute, however, firing into lower levels. Torin winced as his skin grazed the rough stone, a mixture of chemicals and garbage mingling with torn flesh. He tried to slow his descent, but with Casmia's body now pressing uncomfortably into his, both were powerless but to keep tumbling through. With one last twist, they launched into the basement. Dust shrouded them, debris shattering on impact.

Torin coughed through the sediment and scrambled to recollect the Planar Fragment. He dusted it off with a grin. But then he looked up.

"Get them!" a Hawk captain shouted at the opposite end of the room, seven of his allies at his flank. The melee broke out at once. Torin somersaulted out of harm's way while Casmia drew her bow, firing a duo of arrows before their attackers could span the length of the room. But no arrows landed this time, as these men had seen her coming and could deflect the shots with ease. Then Torin got lost altogether. A flood of premonitions bombarded him, the Hawks easily subduing his attempts to flee.

He instead went on the retreat, dodging their inhuman attacks before they could land. Sensing his weaker state, the guards switched to cudgels, confident they could bring Torin down. The visions lessened in intensity, but still too many assaulted him at a time. Torin bobbed and weaved, using the advanced warning [Battle-Sighted] delivered to stay ahead of the fight. The soldiers rushed at him, moving faster than his body could sustain. His lowered stats had finally caught up with him.

Still, Torin did what he could. He did not have the speed or accuracy to fight back against enemies this fast, but [Battle-Sighted] let him know where he could dodge next. His movements became awkward almost immediately. Rather than being able to leap back and forth with any sort of grace, Torin moved more like a drunken oaf, stumbling out of each hit wherever the premonitions weren't present. It worked as well as it could, the soldiers getting angrier by the second. Casmia was also at her limit.

The Hawks faced her with naked steel, and though she moved quicker than most, the strength of a group wore her down again. Blood splattered about whenever she missed a step. She kept moving with a wince. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Need to make an opening. They couldn't keep up like this. Not for long. In less than a minute, the Hawks would bring them both down. Torin narrowed on one in front.

This man suddenly drew his sword with a devilish grin. Another vision entered Torin's mind, and a fresh idea came with it. He glanced over his shoulder at Casmia.

"Get ready to run!" Then, he closed his eyes and fell right into his attacker's sword. * Galerius swiped his cudgel again, missing the boy by mere centimeters. Stay still! Galerius ordered silently, his mouth only exhaling another grunt. This boy was clearly much weaker than them, Early Silver at the most. Meanwhile, Galerius and the others were all Mid and had mastered their techniques over the years. Taking down the runt should have been the easier of the two.

The rest were busy trying to bring down that damn archer. But for some reason, every time Galerius made an attack, the boy leaned out of harm's way at the last possible second. Not just for him, either. No one could hit the little shit as he stumbled away like a child learning to walk. At first, it appeared to be a mere coincidence, but it kept happening. It. Kept. Happening. Damn it all! Galerius fumed as his target evaded yet again. This must have been a Trait at work to keep him one step ahead of the melee.

Blood splashed about where the girl landed a hit. Galerius growled, one of his brothers floundering from the wound. To the Mire with what the Captain said! If they kept trying to bring the fugitives down using non-lethal means, more would die before long. Galerius would rather spend a year with the Storks than let this happen again. He drew his sword with a devilish grin. The boy caught the movement passively, still bumbling about like a fool.

"Get ready to run!" the boy shouted before falling right into his trap. Galerius would not give him the chance to flee. Not this time. With his sword at the ready, he unleashed [Flurry Of Blades]. His sword sliced through the air at an unbeatable speed, tracing a random grid against the space in front. The boy paused at the edge of the sword's reach, but he could not escape the damage altogether. His blood splattered everywhere from a dozen open wounds, covering Galerius and his allies.

The boy fell to one knee and howled in agony. That's right, you bastard. Galerius smirked. Now, to finish you of– He paused. The boy was staring right into his eyes, gleaming like a madman, despite all the exposed blood. Steam rose around him. Galerius raised an eyebrow, his skin tingling. Wait… Why is it getting so hot? Galerius shrieked as the blood burst into flame. * Torin raced down the hall, Casmia leading the way. He looked over his shoulder. That will slow them down, Torin thought.

[Hot-Blooded] made his blood catch fire soon after it leaked. He might have suffered massively from the hit, but every Hawk nearby became scorched in retaliation. Now, both were again on the retreat, and with Torin's blood still gushing free, the carpet and hall became enveloped in flame behind them. None could pursue them through this death trap. Casmia stole occasional glances back, watching Torin bleed fire with consternation. Torin chewed his lip.

This might be impossible to explain now with anything other than the truth. It didn't matter. They could not broach this issue. Not until they escaped this death trap. The pair rushed for the stairwell, aiming for the only place that could save them. That lightning lab. Torin caught sight of it on the way in. It had a device that could shoot arcs of lightning from a small torus. If they could somehow get it working, they could charge the Planar Fragment and escape.

Meanwhile, the other Hawks would be busy, too distracted searching the rooftop to know Torin's true plan. They were almost there. Torin checked his status to see how much time remained on [Battle-Sighted]. He frowned, only a few grains left. But then something else caught his eye. His experience jar had reached its limit, with flecks of white lightning flickering inside. His mana was equally full, but he didn't seem to level. That's weird. Why haven't I leveled?

He'd heard that breaking through into Silver was supposed to be more difficult than all of Bronze combined, but with his Trait's power giving him an infinite well of mana, he should have blown straight through the bottleneck like every stage before. So, why didn't he? He kept moving. There was nothing Torin could do about this obstacle either. Casmia poked her head out while Torin hung back. More fires sprung at their flank, the light from his burning blood leaking inconspicuously forth.

But before could alert anyone else, Casmia fired another pair of arrows. Grunts echoed around the corner, followed by loud thuds.

"Let's go," she ordered. They sprinted the final distance. The halls had been emptied, all Cranes evacuated to make the search easier. With the Hawks concentrated in all the wrong places, they went through this stretch without scrutiny. Almost, anyway. Soldiers cried out from the passageway they came from. Torin grimaced. His diversion had not stopped Hawks at this power level completely. They were still hot on the chase. The two kicked their way into the lab.

Darkness swallowed them as they entered, quickly replaced by fresh, bloody flames.

"Get it working!" Torin ordered before sealing the door behind them. He braced whatever he could against the entrance while Casmia worked on the lightning device. And not a second too soon. The guards slammed into the door, calling for more reinforcements. Desks and chairs were well within arm's reach, so he shoved the obstacles further and hammered extra bits in place. The door strained against the barricade, but did not break.

"How much longer, Casmia?" Torin asked. No answer. He turned, and his heart skipped a beat. Casmia stood frozen against the lightning machine terminal, but her eyes stared vacantly forth. Torin recognized this affliction at once. He'd seen it before. On the cobbler the night before. A low chuckle rang out. Torin turned to face his new enemy. Out from the shadows, Drelk de Lokthra stepped forth, his half-cape draped in darkness, a serrated dagger in hand. His scarlet eyes glinted under the burning light.

Torin's body quivered as those eyes narrowed into his own. For a moment, he could not move. His limbs locked up the second their pupils met. But the sensation quickly faded, and Torin blinked away the paralysis.

"Fascinating," Drelk said.

"You can resist [Serpent's Gaze] too. I wonder what else you can do, Torin Maximus. Also…" He looked down, giddiness growing.

"Are those the missing boots, by chance? They look far too big to be yours." There was no way to escape this confrontation. Torin raised his weapon. Even with the power disparity between them, he still had several advantages to leverage. As long as he could predict Drelk's movements, there was a chance he could win. But then his mind suddenly went blank. Torin pulled his status up in horror. The reason became obvious the moment he checked his Traits. His trump card had ended. [Battle-Sighted] was no more.