Divine Arsenal: Dual Weapon Cultivation

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Divine Arsenal: Dual Weapon Cultivation Page 7

by Dante King


  As the glow around her fingers became blinding, Hazel balled her hands into fists and struck.

  Hazel Casts Stinging Fist Flurry!

  Blows rained down on the Marsh Croc’s side, Hazel making sure to stay in the safe zone where neither the creature’s tail or its jaws could reach. Yet nothing seemed to faze the monster. The golden glow dissipated across its scales, the energy of Hazel’s strikes returning to whence it came without doing serious damage.

  Now I understood my mistake. I’d thought of those scales as individual units of armor that needed to be broken off in order to provide access to the creature’s weak points. I’d pictured each one with its own little number of hit points, like the first phase of a boss fight in an RPG. Instead, those scales worked together to absorb impacts. Breaking off a single piece was going to be nearly impossible—which meant we had to flip the beast over somehow. Get access to that soft white underbelly and bring it down.

  Fortunately, I had an idea of how to do just that.

  “Hazel!” I roared, leaping to the other side of the Marsh Croc. Its sideways-facing eyes swiveled, trying to keep track of both me and Hazel at the same time. “Get your sword ready!”

  Her eyebrows furrowed together—clearly she didn’t think I was capable of this. Yet she reached for the sword at her side, drawing it out as the creature decided Hazel was the greater threat. It turned, aiming a lazy swipe with its tail at my head as it focused on Hazel—giving me the momentum to do what I needed to do.

  I dropped to a crouch, swinging the scythe in a low arc like a farmer trying to cut wheat. The tip hit the Marsh Croc below the line of its scales, piercing its side in a gout of blood.

  It roared with mingled pain and rage. I wasn’t done. My muscles flexed as I pushed inward with all my might, both hands on the jeweled hilt of the scythe. The tip dug into the ground, deep beneath the Marsh Croc. The blade was wedged between the monster’s belly and the earth. Using the head of the shaft as a fulcrum, I heaved with all my might, placing all my weight and strength onto the scythe’s handle.

  There was no way Hazel or I could have lifted the Marsh Croc on our own. The beast was far too heavy, even for two people working as a team. But I’d been paying enough attention back in school to remember levers and pulleys.

  The scythe flipped upward, launching the Marsh Croc nearly onto its side. Two of its massive legs kicked against the open air, providing a brief window to hit the soft, unarmored underbelly.

  Hazel did not miss her chance.

  The blonde struck deep into the creature’s underside, seeking its heart. The Marsh Croc roared with pain, its tail going crazy as it struggled to right itself. A blow against the side of my head from the monster’s tail sent me staggering to my knees, but I kept hold of the scythe, not wanting to lose my weapon when the fight wasn’t over yet.

  “Ha! Look at that!” Hazel danced backward before the creature could do to her what it had done to me, pulling her sword free of the Marsh Croc. Blood dripped down the curved blade, with more spreading beneath the monster as it wriggled across the jungle floor. “One more of those and we should be able to kill it!”

  I grinned. We’d done some damage to the Croc, alright. When Hazel and I worked as a team, there was nothing we couldn’t do. I felt closer to her already—

  The Marsh Croc turned to me and roared, its fangs glowing with greenish-blue energy. My senses allowed me to feel the monster drawing power into itself, only instead of Hazel’s tree-borrowing trick, this creature pulled energy from the air around it. My skin hummed with the vibrations, a wave of coldness sending the hair on the back of my neck standing on end with a sudden chill.

  Words appeared above the Marsh Croc’s head. In contrast to the messages from earlier, these words glowed bright red like a warning:

  Marsh Croc Casts Gust!

  The Marsh Croc’s roar became a miniature tornado. A wall of wind erupted from between its jaws, tossing me right off my feet. It slammed into me with the force of an oncoming truck, tearing away my senses as the Gust tossed me across the jungle like a paper doll.

  Even as I panicked, the part of my brain Eliezer taught to sense things watched this unfold with a clinical eye. I noted the way the wind swirled around the Marsh Croc as it charged, the way it twisted downdrafts and currents to create chaos out of the order of life. Even as my broken body slammed into a nearby tree, crumpling to the ground, part of me rejoiced at the changes in barometric pressure and humidity going on. I felt the speed of the gust, the zephyrs it used to alter the landscape, the pressure differential as the wave finally crested and began to ebb.

  There was knowledge in the pain.

  By the time I came back to myself, it felt like every bone in my body was broken. It took a couple of tries to make it back to my feet, but somehow I managed. I couldn’t be hurt that bad if I was still able to get upright—while the Marsh Croc’s Gust hurt almost as bad as Eliezer’s spear, I reckoned I was probably more bruised than broken.

  Meanwhile, the Marsh Croc had righted itself and now turned its attention on Hazel. Without me to provide a counterbalance, the blonde warrior had no luck getting through the monster’s thick scales. She ducked nimbly away again and again, dodging its jaws, yet I could feel her beginning to tire. She mustn’t have been used to fights lasting this long—and, on a deeper level than sight, I could sense that the trick she’d pulled had left her drained somehow. She’d expected the Stinging Fist Flurry technique to bring the Marsh Croc down, and when it hadn’t, she’d been left flailing.

  Hazel missed a step, tumbling over a vine in her path. She went down in a pile of leaves, swearing as she stumbled and landed on her ass. The Marsh Croc gibbered like a madman, crawling toward her with the excitement of the kill.

  I did the only thing I could think of—picked up a rock on the floor and tossed it at the monster’s head. It hit, right between the eyes.

  The Marsh Croc turned, anger in its beady red eyes.

  “That’s right, bitch!” I yelled, cupping my hands around my mouth. “You’re not ready for a second helping—you haven’t finished the first one yet!”

  The beast charged. I scanned the undergrowth around me, looking for the scythe, but it was nowhere to be found. Shit!

  More green energy flowed around the Marsh Croc’s fangs as it came into range, charging up another of those awful Gusts. Another head-on blow from that magic and it would break bones. Leaving me helpless to defend myself.

  The Marsh Croc opened its mouth, preparing another miniature tornado. This time, I fancied I could almost see the currents forming between its jaws, like a toy being built on an assembly line on fast forward. What the hell?

  Only then did I realize there were words in the corner of my vision. They’d been there ever since I flew through the air—I’d just been too dazed to notice them:

  Wood Comprehension Increased!

  Initiating Memorize Stage (Gust: Level 1)

  Memorize Stage reached 10% (Gust: Level 1)

  Along with the message came a line of scrolling symbols. Vines like the ones around my feet entwined with emerald leaves—whatever this thing I’d learned was, it had something to do with the earth. Like Hazel’s glowing palm ability.

  Wait a second: Gust? Had I just learned the Marsh Croc’s ability by having it used on me?

  There really was knowledge in the pain, wasn’t there?

  The Marsh Croc roared loud enough to shake the jungle. The windstorm in its jaws became a maelstrom, the red warning flashing above its sleek body like a klaxon:

  Marsh Croc Casts Gust!

  Another wall of air cascaded across the jungle, sending vines and leaves in all directions. I heard Hazel scream over the sound of the storm. She knew damned well that this strike, if unblocked, would leave me in traction.

  Which means I need to block it! A little voice in the back of my head screamed.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I’d thrown both hands out in front of me. The Black Core inside my body p
ulsed like the heartbeat of a jogger at the end of a marathon. Somehow, it knew what to do, as though whatever Eliezer had put inside me carried some infused knowledge.

  As the blast of concentrated energy reached me, my hands glowed with a golden energy that could have been the twin of Hazel’s. Only while hers was based around attacking, mine felt like defense:

  Eric Casts Mana Shield!

  A golden wall stood between my hands and the tornado. It was semi-transparent, turning the world on the other side to sepia like an old photograph. The wall shimmered like one of the energy shields from Halo, bending slightly inward as the full force of the Gust hit.

  For a moment, I was certain it would hold. Then a deep crack formed in the golden shield, and the whole thing buckled inward. I hit the deck as the Gust punched through, breaking my makeshift shield to bits.

  “Eric!” Hazel screamed, running toward me. “Noooo!”

  The Marsh Croc’s second Gust held even more power than its first. If it hadn’t been for that Mana Shield, parrying the worst of it, I’d have been dead for sure. As it was, the dregs of the attack slammed me against a nearby tree, nearly knocking my unconscious. I grit my teeth, struggling to resist the urge to slump to the jungle floor and pass out.

  More words flashed in the corner of my vision, expanding my knowledge:

  Wood Comprehension Increased!

  Memorize Stage reached 20% (Gust: Level 1)

  Some consolation prize, I thought, pushing off the tree trunk. As the knowledge coursed through me, I realized I understood the Marsh Croc’s attack even better than before. I could see the threads of air swirling around it, preparing to knit themselves together like a tapestry into a third, even more powerful assault. I couldn’t let that happen.

  “Hazel!” I grunted. Blood slurred the word; I had a split lip. I spit into the undergrowth, my hands shaking. “Get that fucking sword ready!”

  Hazel came to a halt a few feet away from the Marsh Croc, her eyes wide with shock.

  “No, don’t!” she warned, her face going pale. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”

  Fuck that. If we wanted to stop this monster before it killed us both, we had to get to that weak point on its belly again. Which meant I needed to toss its own bullshit spell right back at it.

  A thick vein in my neck pulsed with exertion as I reached out and seized the spirit of the air around me. I wrapped strands of energy around my fist the way I’d wrapped Anna’s hair around my fingers, and for the same reason: more leverage to go deeper. Greenish blue energy the same shade as the Marsh Croc’s exploded between my fingers as I charged my ability, preparing to unleash a spell of my own.

  Eric Casts Gust!

  I flung my hands out toward the monster, roaring like a lion. The Gust I created wasn’t anything like the Marsh Croc’s—not by a long shot. Where the sleek reptile had been able to kick up tornados with its jaws, my own spell produced the kind of wind that threw tumbleweeds across the street. Yet it was still power—and more importantly, the Marsh Croc hadn’t expected it.

  It reared up, trying to go over the spell. Wind blew against its belly, and it toppled, landing flat on its back against the now-bare earth. The monster’s legs twitched spasmodically as it tried to right itself, its bulk constricting as sinuously as a snake.

  Hazel wasted no time. She stabbed the creature in its unprotected stomach. The tip of her curved sword pierced the creature’s belly, sinking in deep. Her lips peeled back, exposing her white, even teeth as she forced the steel in deeper. Finally, she pierced the creature’s heart.

  The Marsh Croc let out a mournful wail and went still. It slumped against the ground, its limbs like wet noodles. The monster was dead.

  I went to go clap Hazel on the back—but I sank to my knees. All the strength left my limbs, oozing out into the forest around me. It felt like the opposite of what I’d experienced as I watched Hazel charging up her fist attack; like the world around me absorbed my energy instead of giving me some. Like I’d broken something in my Core, leaving it to leak like a cracked egg.

  In an instant, Hazel was at my side. She smiled at me as she rolled me onto my back, yet her beautiful face was lined with worry. “You’re alright,” she assured me, reaching into a pouch at her side. “You’re going to be just fine, Eric. Take this.”

  I didn’t feel fine. Another wave of dizziness washed over me. My chest ached, and a crackling pain shot through me when I reached up to take what Hazel was giving me.

  I opened my fingers to see a small white pill, like an aspirin.

  “What’s this?” I asked, my breathing difficult.

  “A Healing Pill,” she said, emphasizing the capital letters. “Unrefined, but enough to mend your injuries. I think you have a couple of broken ribs, Eric.”

  I had to agree with her assessment. I felt like I’d gone twelve rounds with a championship boxer and lost every one. I looked down at the small pill in my hand, my brow furrowing with disbelief. Even after everything I’d seen, all the magic around me, it seemed impossible that a tiny little pill could completely heal me.

  Oh well, I thought. Worth a shot. I popped it in my mouth and swallowed, wincing as it slid down my throat. Taking pills without water was never easy.

  Evidently satisfied, Hazel guided me back down to the jungle floor and started to clean her sword. She removed every speck of blood with a cloth before she sheathed it again. It was a meticulous thing, something learned from repetition. It almost seemed like a religious ritual, an act of worship to the lethal blade. Thinking of it now, I suppose it was.

  When Hazel was done, she made her way over to the freshly-killed corpse of the Marsh Croc, taking a knife from her belt as she walked. Within moments, she’d removed the monster’s hide, then disemboweled it. She took out its organs and arranged them on the ground. Evidently in this world monsters had rare drops, like in a video game—only claiming them involved getting your hands dirty.

  Slowly I began to feel better. The tide of dizziness receded, the pain in my chest fading to a dull ache, and my breathing came more easily. As Hazel continued scooping organs out of the Marsh Croc’s body, I sat up against the tree, waiting for my vision to clear.

  “You have some Comprehension of Wood,” Hazel said, glancing up from the bloody corpse of the Marsh Croc. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  I squinted. The world still looked a little blurry, but that was passing. “Comprehension of Wood?”

  Hazel returned her attention to the monster. “The spell you used to throw the Marsh Croc onto its back,” she explained. “That was produced through a Comprehension of Wood, wasn’t it?”

  Swaying slightly, I risked rising to my feet. One of my knees nearly buckled, but I managed alright. My hands went to my lower back, stretching out the kinks as more healing flowed through me.

  “I guess so,” I said, looking around for my scythe. “Every time the Croc hit me with that big wall of air, I felt like I understood what it was doing a little bit better. I guess eventually that translated into me figuring out how to do it myself.”

  Hazel nodded. “Comprehension. As I said.”

  As I watched, Hazel thrust both hands into the gaping hole she’d created in the Marsh Croc’s chest. The sight filled me with disgust, but Hazel looked like she did this sort of thing all the time. She blew a strand of blonde hair away from her face as she quested around, searching for something inside of the monster.

  “Your companion fled during the battle,” Hazel said. “I didn’t see where she went, but we will have to search for her when I am done here.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Hazel must not have seen Anna transform into the scythe since she was busy fighting the Marsh Croc.

  “Anna didn’t run away,” I said. “But I do need to find her. Have you seen my scythe?”

  “Your weapon is over there,” Hazel said, gesturing toward the trees with her chin. “You dropped it during the Marsh Croc’s first Gust attack.”


  “Thanks.” I made my way over to it. The scythe lay half buried beneath a pile of leaves, which was maybe why it hadn’t transformed immediately back into Anna after the battle. At my touch, the shimmering prism of light bathed the weapon, its form shifting until a woman stood before me once more.

  “That was badass!” Anna said, grinning from ear-to-ear. Her lush robes didn’t even look mussed from the dirt.

  There was a gasp, and I turned to see Hazel staring right at Anna and me.

  “You. . . you were the scythe?” the blonde warrior managed to say.

  “That’s right,” Anna said, beaming at the other woman. “Like I said, it was badass!”

  “How is this possible?” Hazel asked.

  “Peak Supreme God Eliezer,” I explained.

  Hazel furrowed her brow and shook her head, as though she believed that turning a woman into a weapon and back again was simply impossible. For me, as a newcomer to this world of magic, monsters, and strange women, it didn’t seem all that crazy. After all, every single thing I’d experienced in the past few hours would have seemed insane only that morning.

  “Guildmaster Ji will want to know of this,” Hazel muttered. “For now, I must concentrate on getting us to him.”

  Anna shrugged and turned to me. “What happened after you dropped me? I didn’t see much of the fight once I got stuck in those leaves.”

  A surge of pride filled my chest. “I cast the Croc’s own spell back at it,” I said, gesturing at the monster. “Flipped it over, and Hazel finished it off.”

  Anna’s jaw dropped open. She stared at the massive creature with a mixture of awe and lust.

  “Fuck,” she panted, sliding a hand between my thighs. “You should know that I am so turned on right now, Eric…”

 

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