Chương 71: Chapter 70: Falling

William slammed the knife down into the tentacle. It didn't go in cleanly. His angle was awkward, his leverage practically nonexistent, and the conditions were far from ideal. Yet the blade still dug deep, punching through the rubbery flesh. The outer layer was thick and viscous, sending a jarring shockwave up the bones on his wrist and arm, but the inner layer was soft, offering little resistance as the steel sank further in. Hot fluid immediately welled up around the blade.

It wasn't blood, but a strange, pungent liquid that reeked of harsh chemicals, sending a wave of nausea through him that made his head spin. William wrenched the blade sideways, attempting to sever as much tendons as possible when— The tentacle reacted. With a violent spasm, the massive appendage whipped around backward, sending him slamming into the opposite rock wall. William's vision flashed white as he cried out in pain. He tasted blood.

But he still managed to hold onto his knife, his instincts registering the weapon as his one chance at survival. The tentacle constricted even more, the monster's response to pain seemingly being to apply more pressure to its victims, and William wheezed, the sound embarrassingly small. But again, his oxygen-deprived mind somehow remembered the blade again. Forcing his trembling arm to move, he raised the weapon and stabbed it in a second time.

This time, he aimed lower, where the limb curved most tightly around him and the tissue was pulled taut. The exact place where the creature's vital tendons were bound to be. With a desperate wrench, William sliced upward. He felt the satisfying pop as a tendon tore beneath the surface. For a split second, the crushing pressure around his torso lessened. But instead of releasing him, the injury only sent the creature into a frenzy.

William screamed as the tentacle whipped him through the air, violently thrashing him against the walls of the tunnel. The impact rattled his teeth and knocked the remaining air from his lungs. Dark spots bloomed across his vision, and his ears popped, everything sounding as if he was underwater. His consciousness began slipping away. But… No. Adrenaline surged through his failing system. William wasn't prepared to die just yet. Not yet, he thought. I still need to find Casi.

The thought of her dragged his consciousness back from the brink. He couldn't see through his blurry vision—a mess of shadows and strange colors—but he could still feel. Through the violent, dizzying motion of being whipped through the air, his fingers locked onto the handle of the knife with a death grip. If the monster wasn't going to let him go… William would just carve himself out. His mind flashed to Lio.

Ever since he'd met the kid, it seemed like Lio was constantly pulling off the impossible, somehow always surviving insane feats that should have killed him ten times over. A grim, defiant spark ignited in William's chest. If that bastard can do it, I can do it too. He stopped thinking about the pain, completely blocking out the bone-jarring impacts against the stone walls. Driven by nothing but a sheer, stubborn survival instinct, William unleashed a frenzy of his own. Time lost all meaning.

He couldn't tell if he was upside down or right side up as the tentacle violently lashed him back and forth through the tunnel, but it didn't matter. He poured every ounce of his remaining strength into his arm. And with it, he slashed. He hacked. He drove the blade down again and again, burying the steel deep into the rubbery hide. The thick, foul-smelling fluid erupted like geysers from the wounds, drenching his clothes and making his grip dangerously slick, but he refused to let go.

William struck until his muscles burned like fire, until he honestly couldn't tell if he was still alive or dead. But no matter what… He would not stop until he was free. ◈◈◈◈ Ophila's eyes narrowed as she studied the mystery woman. The stranger didn't appear to be even the slightest bit nervous, leaning languidly against the doorframe. It was like she hadn't a care in the world. How does she know my name?

She scanned the woman's revealing attire, her gaze lingering on the glinting golden needle grasped in her hand. It wasn't a standard weapon, but in the right hands, it could certainly be lethal. A cold knot of dread formed in her stomach. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Was this woman part of the organization? If those damn hunters had finally caught up to her, it meant nowhere was safe. They had somehow managed to track her across Ghenna itself.

And judging by the ruin of William's bedroom and the gaping hole in the floorboards, they were no longer content with just watching from the shadows.

"Come with you?" Ophila repeated, her voice flat.

"You show up out of nowhere, somehow know my name, and you just expect me to just come with you?" The woman gently tittered, twirling the golden needle between her fingers.

"Fair point," the stranger admitted, her lips curving into a feline grin.

"Trust isn't exactly free down here, is it? So, how about a gesture of good faith? A trade. You know my business, so it's only fair you know who's conducting it." She straightened up from the doorframe, and gave an exaggerated bow.

"My name's Sparrow." Sparrow. Ophila didn't let her expression waver, but internally, she scoffed. It was a fake name if she had ever heard one. Ophila cocked her head, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"And I suppose you just happen to be a little bird passing through?"

"Exactly~" Sparrow sang, clapping her hands together.

"See? We're already building a rapport. So, what do you say, fellow birdie? Will you come with me now? Save us both the hassle?" Ophila smirked, shifting into a low, defensive stance and pulling out a marble.

"Not a chance." Sparrow pouted childishly, slumping her shoulders and giving a theatrical sigh.

"Oh, how disappointing. I really thought we were having a moment here. Why does everyone always have to make things so incredibly difficult?" Then, before the sigh could even fully leave her lips… Sparrow lunged forward, the golden needle in her hand aimed directly at Ophila's throat. Ophila moved purely on instinct. Her right hand slammed down on the [Ad Valorem] rune and her left fiercely hurled a marble across the room.

She swapped just as the golden needle kissed the air where her throat had been a half-second earlier. Without wasting time to be relieved, she ducked low, driving her elbow into Sparrow's forearm, attempting to knock the needle wide, and immediately followed it with a strike aimed at the woman's solar plexus. Her knuckles connected satisfyingly, but… It was like Ophila had just punched a stone wall. She yelped, her hand recoiling as pain flared up through her arm. She hissed, staggering back.

Meanwhile, Sparrow hadn't even flinched. She just looked down at the point of impact with an expression of mild curiosity, not even a hint of agony in her features.

"Oh, that's a fun trick," Sparrow murmured, running a tongue over her teeth.

"Very cute."

"Senna, get back!" Ophila barked, already reaching for another marble. Behind her, the frantic scuffle of boots on the ground told her Senna was scrambling out of the line of fire. But Ophila didn't dare look back to check. She kept her eyes locked dead on Sparrow, waiting for the next strike. And sure enough, the woman moved again, this time coming in low, sweeping Ophila's legs out from under her.

Ophila hit the floor hard, and barely managed to roll sideways before the golden needle came down in a sharp downward jab, splintering into the floorboard where her shoulder had been. Too close. She kicked upward from the ground, catching Sparrow in the knee. But again, it felt like she was kicking iron. What the hell is she made of? Ophila threw herself back to her feet, her mind racing. It didn't seem as though Sparrow was relying on a rune, either.

Throughout their entire fight, Ophila hadn't seen the woman so much as glance at or touch a hidden spot on her body to activate one. She was just like this naturally. Ophila drily chuckled. How terrifying. Sparrow tsked, tilting her head.

"You're fast," she conceded, advancing again.

"But how long do you think you can keep this up?" Ophila didn't answer. She feinted left, then dove to her right, attempting to get behind the woman and get an arm around her throat. She managed to get a grip, but only briefly, before Sparrow simply reached back, grabbed her by the forearm with one hand, and hurled her sideways like she weighed nothing at all. Ophila crashed into the wall, stars bursting across her vision. She tasted metallic blood flooding her mouth. She let out an involuntary groan.

This wasn't good. Then, from behind Sparrow, two plumes of smoke erupted from the ground. Ophila gave a tired grin. Senna had activated her rune. The shadows quickly peeled back to reveal a pair of the lean soldiers.

"We are nameless Velites of the Praesepe Legion," they spoke in unison, repeating the exact chant their predecessor had spoken.

"Born to serve the Great Duke Alloces. Our lives are short, our strikes are quick. Point, Contractor, and we shall carry out your will." From across the room, Senna was standing with trembling legs, her face pale and tight with barely suppressed agony.

"Her!" she gasped, pointing a trembling finger at the mystery woman.

"Keep her away from Ophila!"

"Of course, Contractor." The twin soldiers rose. Then, in an explosive blur of motion, they lunged forward, their bronze spears thrusting toward Sparrow's torso. Sparrow's playful grin vanished for the first time, replaced by a flicker of irritation. She twisted her agile body, avoiding the first spear tip by mere inches. Immediately after, with a sharp metallic clang, she used the flat of her golden needle to parry the second spear strike.

"Summoners," Sparrow hissed.

"You guys are such fucking pests." The Velites continued on, moving with precision, attacking in perfect tandem. And it actually pushed Sparrow backwards. For a moment, the relentless pressure of the arcane soldiers actually seemed to push her to her defenses. But then, that feeble hope was destroyed in a mere instant.

"So annoying," she muttered, slipping past a lethal thrust. With a sudden, explosive burst of speed, Sparrow stepped inside the guard of the left Velite. Her golden needle flashed, driven straight up through the underside of its iron mask. A fatal strike. But the soldier didn't bleed. Instead, it shattered like brittle glass, dissolving back into a plume of black smoke. The remaining Velite lunged instantly to avenge its pair, but Sparrow was already prepared.

She caught the shaft of its bronze spear with her bare hand, and delivered a devastating front kick straight to its chest. Crack! The second phantom soldier also burst into vapor. Across the room, Senna let out a choked gasp, staggering as sweat dripped down her face. Sparrow turned back toward them, casually spinning the golden needle between her fingers.

"Now then," she purred, her eyes locking onto Senna.

"Where were we?" But the distraction had given Ophila exactly what she'd needed. Time. By now, she had managed to recover enough of her composure, forcing herself up from the floor. She knew they couldn't win this fight. If they stayed here, they were doomed. There was only one way out.

"Senna, hold on!" Ophila screamed. Before Sparrow could react, Ophila bolted forward. She lunged, wrapping her arms tightly around Senna's torso. With a desperate heave, Ophila hurled both of their bodies sideways, plunging directly into the yawning, jagged hole in the center of the floorboards. And they were falling. Falling. And falling.