by James Hunter
I beat those feelings back and tucked into a roll, flipping head over heels, then spreading myself out so I was belly-flopping toward Arzokh at an insane speed. I only had seconds and I needed to time this move perfectly or I risked phasing through the dragon while in Shadow Stride. If that happened, it would be a long, deadly fall, followed by a bone breaking splat. Or worse—what if I ended up inside the dragon? I wasn’t sure that was possible, but I absolutely didn’t want to find out. I pressed my eyes shut, knowing this was going to hurt no matter what, and exited from the Shadowverse a handful of feet above the Sky Maiden’s back.
I hit facedown, arms and legs splayed out. Half of my HP vanished as a sharp, stinging pain exploded in every nerve ending as though some giant had just open-hand slapped the entire surface of my body. Instantly, I wanted to curl into a ball and weep for the next two years, but I soldiered past the pain instead, fumbling at one of the bony spikes protruding from her spine. I wrapped my hands around the spur a second before she roared and dived, the whole world quivering as she fought to shake me off like a dog shedding water.
My teeth rattled, my legs flopped up and down—toes drumming rhythmically against her back—while my arms burned from the strain of holding tight. But I kept right on holding, because I had no other option. After what felt like a lifetime, her bone-shaking roar subsided and she leveled out, offering me a brief reprieve to breath and recuperate. Slowly, carefully, I inched my way forward, slugging from spiky spine to spiky spine, dragging my body ever closer to her enormous neck and the golden chain holding the amulet in place.
THIRTY: Desperate Measures
I crawled forward another foot, then paused, profoundly winded, and took stock. I had about another fifteen feet to go, which seemed like a daunting prospect, but on the plus side, Arzokh was dipping lower and lower, apparently trailing Devil and Abby into the canyon, which was all I could hope for. I mean, at some point I needed her to land.
After another handful of seconds, I continued my murderously slow slog.
“Why can’t you leave me in peace?” the dragon asked, her voice booming around me as I wriggled against her. “Was it not enough that your ancestors murdered my family and doomed me to this place, separated from my loved ones? Must you invade the Twilight Lands, too? Must you torment me with flying pests and turn even my kin against me? Must you murder my hope that one day I might destroy all three of those cursed artifacts and finally find peace in the world to come? Is there no mercy in you? No sense of justice?”
“I’m sorry,” I screamed against her back, inching my way along hand over hand, a grimace etched into the lines of my face. “It’s nothing personal. I listened to your Priestess’s story. I know what happened, and I know it was wrong, but there’s no other way. Please, you have to understand that. I don’t want to kill you, but it’s one balanced against millions.”
“You sound just like him. Nangkri.” Her words pulsed with anger, but there was also a note of sadness simmering beneath. “He said the same thing as he killed my Irrinth and let my babies die. What’s one group of hatchlings balanced against the whole of the Storme Marshes? He felt bad, but his guilt didn’t wash him free of his sins. Neither will yours.” She threw herself into a roll that left me suspended above the earth, clinging on for dear life by my fingertips. Just when I thought I couldn’t hold for a second more, she flipped again, leveling out as I flopped back onto her pebbly hide.
My Stamina bar was almost empty, and what I needed was a break, but I didn’t take one. Oh no. One more maneuver like that from the Sky Maiden and I was toast, so I needed to finish this thing now. It was time to take a few more risks. I was only seven feet away, so carefully I moved into a crouch, hands down, toes digging into scaly flesh, and scrambled forward on my hands and knees, praying she didn’t take any evasive action. Four feet out, I hurled my body into a dive, arms outstretched. I landed with a thud, clinging to a sharp ridge of bone at the base of her neck.
I’d made it. Oh my God, I’d made it.
I cackled madly—the pressure finally getting to me—pulled my warhammer free, and laid into the fat golden chain looped around her neck like a noose. The blunt head of my weapon landed with a clang, a chain link denting and giving slightly under the force of the blow.
“Stop that!” She waggled her head back and forth, fighting once more to dislodge me.
But I didn’t stop. Nope.
I blocked out everything except the hammer in my hand and the golden chain that might mean my salvation. Over and over again I struck, beating my way slowly but surely through one of the chain links. Clang, clang, clang. Rinse, wash, repeat. Before long, great gobs of sweat rolled into my eyes and my arms ached from the difficult and awkward effort. I was almost through—only a few more hits to go—when Arzokh tossed her head back, issuing a deafening, deep-bellied laugh before twirling and smashing her back into the canyon wall.
Just what I needed.
Ragged shards of rock bit at me, tearing into my armor and carving away chunks of flesh and HP with every terrible second. This was road rash of the worst kind, and I only had seconds until the wall ground me into Murk Elf paste and sent me for respawn. In that instant, I knew she’d beaten me, I could feel it in my heart and my guts. I’d given it everything I had, but it wasn’t enough. Not in the end. I cursed under my breath and triggered Shadow Stride. Time hiccuped, creeping to a standstill, and the dragon beneath me became nothing more than a wraith.
An insubstantial cloud, incapable of holding my weight.
I passed through her hide in a blink, dropping out the other side.
I flipped, head over heels, and crashed into the rocky slope of the canyon wall, flopping and rolling my way down toward the bottom. Chunks of black obsidian scratched at my face, nubs of barbed rock jabbed into my limbs and back, and dust clogged my eyes, nose, and mouth. Thankfully, I was only twenty-five feet from the canyon floor, and the Sky Maiden had kindly deposited me near the rest of my party—still tucked away in the outcropping of rock. After what felt like a lifetime, I rolled to a stop at the base of the wall. Any other time that fall would’ve killed me, but I sustained no damage.
Not a lick. Thank God for Shadow Stride.
Still, it hurt worse than getting tossed through a plate-glass window and landing in a hive full of angry fire ants. Every inch of me throbbed in time to my heart.
With a groan I pushed myself upright, grimacing at the ache in my feet, knees, and thighs, and turned in a slow circle, contemplating my next move. Amara was twenty feet off the ground, squirreled away in a narrow crevice in the cliff face, her bow drawn and on the verge of releasing a hail of arrows. The rest of the crew, Abby and Devil included, were taking cover around the rocky outcropping, eyes locked on the Sky Maiden. They all looked scared and with good reason: Arzokh was descending like an avenging angel, completely unharmed, wearing the amulet loud and proud.
Despite the pain and the hardship, I grinned and stifled a chuckle. Nikko was still clinging to the dragon’s face like a pesky tick, clawing at her eyes and refusing to be dislodged. I could see the utter and complete annoyance on Arzokh’s reptilian face—she looked like a long-suffering mother desperately trying to ignore a disobedient and particularly obnoxious toddler. Nikko wasn’t the most powerful minion, but boy was she a resilient, persistent bugger.
The weak laugh died as I turned my mind back to the situation at hand.
The best thing we could do now was retreat. Just head back through the portal and regroup. Maybe we could come up with a better plan now that we knew what we were up against. Before I could decide what to do, however, my countdown timer hit zero and the world blurred back into life. Into motion, chaos, and the harsh heat of the Twilight Lands. A swirling cloud of debris and ash, kicked up by the Sky Maiden’s massive wings, blasted me as the dragon touched down twenty feet away.
Quickly, I recalled my minions—they couldn’t do anything now except die—and pulled open the Officer Chat. “Retreat!” I screame
d at Cutter, Abby, and Amara, simultaneously unleashing a violet Umbra Bolt right at Arzokh’s tooth-studded mouth. “Get everyone back to the clearing,” I called again as my spell landed with a flash, immediately drawing the Sky Maiden’s eye. My order was a second too late, though, because everyone was already in motion, launching attacks, too focused on the battle to pay me any mind.
Amara rained down arrows fitted with improvised specialty tips that exploded against Arzokh’s hide, covering her in biting acid. The sludgy green goop chewed into the Sky Maiden’s armored flesh with ease, but her HP bar didn’t even flicker. Meanwhile, Vlad stood on the top of the craggy outcropping, back straight, face screwed up in defiance as he mechanically hurled alchemic grenades, one after another. And Cutter and Forge, our melee fighters, sprinted across the chalky earth—Forge with his axe raised high, Cutter with his dual daggers spinning.
Only Abby had gotten the message, it seemed.
“Abby,” I said, cueing the Chat again, “without the amulet, we can't win this. Can’t do it. We need to get everyone back into the clearing before she starts unleashing Dragon’s Fire. You get Vlad and Amara. I’ll collect the knuckleheads.”
“On it, Jack,” she replied, shooting me a nod, then scampering up the stone toward Vlad.
That left Cutter and Forge to me.
Unfortunately, they’d already closed the distance, working in tandem like a pair of wolves hunting larger, more dangerous prey. Forge darted in, slashing at Arzokh’s exposed neck with his massive battle-axe, leaving deep furrows in the dragon’s flesh, before backpedaling while Cutter attacked from her other side, jabbing at the leathery folds in her wings. It was a smart tactic—deliver lightning-fast strikes, always stay in motion, and simply wear the enemy down down with a thousand small wounds. Against any other foe, it might’ve worked. The problem was Arzokh couldn’t die; not even ten thousand slashes would do the trick.
And it would only take one solid hit to end either of them.
I twirled and broke into a sprint, hurling a barrage of Umbra Bolts at the Sky Maiden to get her attention. My plan worked, alright, and I regretted it immediately as she snarled and unleashed a gout of white-hot Dragon Fire directly at me. “Oh shit,” I squawked, darting right and throwing myself forward, landing with a huff on my belly, then scuttling away on my hands and feet. The geyser of flame ceased a moment later, leaving a trail of liquid glass in the sand and plumes of white smoke lazily drifting upward.
“I’ve got Vlad and Amara,” Abby’s voice chirped in my ear as I hastily gained my feet. “We’re heading through the portal now. Round up the idiots and get back before things blow up.” The line clicked and fizzled in my ear, dead, as I reversed course, bolting back toward the dragon—
My heart skidded to a halt as my worst fear took shape right before my eyes: Cutter slashed at Arzokh’s wing, scoring a long gash in her leathery skin, then promptly threw himself into a blindingly fast dive as she countered with scimitar-like claws. The talons whooshed over him—only a hairsbreadth from impaling him—but that attack was only a feint and Arzokh was waiting. Ready. Her jaws yawning like an open grave. Cutter’s eyes flared in shock, but he was already committed to the roll—there was no turning back and no way out. The thief yelped as her mouth snapped shut around one of his legs, blood spurting.
The yelp morphed into a bloodcurdling scream, Cutter’s lips pulled back in a snarl of agony as he sank both daggers to the hilt into her prehistoric face. The Sky Maiden didn’t even flinch. Smoke curled up from her lips in anger as she squeezed down tighter, Cutter’s HP draining away at an alarming rate.
“No, no, no.” I sprinted forward and leaped onto the top of her bony snout. “You’re not going to win.” I screamed defiantly, swaying on top of her nose, then slamming the spike on my hammer directly into her skull, throwing my weight into the attack as though I were driving a tent stake into the ground. The wicked spike struck home with the crack of fracturing bone, and the Sky Maiden threw her mouth open on instinct, issuing a thunderous roar of pain and hate and murderous fury. Cutter fell free, thudding to the ground, his skin pale and waxy, his left leg butchered almost beyond repair.
Then the world tilted as Arzokh bucked up and I lost my footing, arms pinwheeling wildly as I tumbled and landed in the dirt with a oomph. My head bounced against a jagged piece of stone; stars exploded across my vision, but it was my right shoulder that took the brunt of the fall. Rock snapped bone and my body weight ripped through muscle, earning me an instant and crippling debuff:
<<<>>>
Debuff Added
Fractured Shoulder: You cannot use your right arm and cannot cast mage spells requiring hand gestures; duration, 2 minutes.
<<<>>>
For a moment I lay there, stunned, and then an enormous serpentine face appeared above me—a cobra rearing back, ready to strike and kill.
“Not today, you no-good, alligator-looking sumabitch,” Forge hollered, driving his axe into her muzzle, the blade sinking deep as he slammed into her with all his weight. The Sky Maiden was one big ol’ monster, but Forge’s Charge ability packed a serious wallop. Arzokh’s head jerked right from the impact, but then, before Forge could even blink, she whipped around and scooped him up in her crushing jaws.
I scrambled to my feet as Forge flailed at her with his axe, swearing the whole time, while his legs disappeared entirely into her jaws and bloody foam frothed on his lips. “Go,” he grunted at me, his HP fading fast, his eyes already clouding over with death. I lurched away, heading for Cutter, who was worming his way across the ground, dragging himself with his hands and working leg, leaving a long smear of blood across the ground. I stowed my weapon and bent over with a grimace, using my serviceable arm to hoist him up and onto my back in a classic fireman’s carry. A technique I’d used a handful of times before as an EMT.
I glanced back as Forge let out one last strangled gasp as his whole body vanished into Arzokh’s throat, dead and sent for respawn in the most grisly and awful manner possible. Still, I wasn’t going to let his sacrifice be for nothing. As much as it pained me, I picked up my pace, hobbling for all I was worth toward the portal, Cutter groaning and moaning with every step, every bump.
“No!” Arzokh cried out in fury, whipping her head toward me. “You cannot escape. I won’t allow it. I’ll burn you and all your companions,” she said, her golden eyes narrowing as her lips pulled away from her jagged teeth. “Die,” she spat, reptilian jaws stretching, a spark of golden flame blooming in the back of her mouth. Oh no, not again. In the face of incineration and certain death, my body discovered a new well of adrenaline-fueled strength, and suddenly I was running, my legs pumping as fast as they would carry me.
I heard the whoosh of inferno flame scorching the air and immediately threw myself into a clumsy dive. Cutter and I sailed through the air, arms flopping, legs kicking. The icy power of the portal splashed over my face and shoulders as a terrible wave of heat licked at my boots …
THIRTY-ONE: Regroup
I blocked out the inrush of blistering pain and crashed into a blanket of deliciously soft grass, rolling and flipping from the momentum of the fall before ending on my back, staring up at the glittering ceiling above. Wow, that was close. My HP bar flashed red in the critical zone, my right arm was still broken and limp by my side, and my boots smoked and smoldered from that last bout of dragon’s flame. But I was wonderfully, miraculously alive—and better yet, so was Cutter. I could hear him moaning in pain, whining about his leg, somewhere off to my right.
But he was alive. That was the important thing.
Except, he’d survived at an expensive price. Forge, dead. Eaten by the Sky Maiden.
Forge would respawn, of course, but that didn’t lessen the impact of dying inside VGO. Dying was a horrible experience, and according to Osmark, it took a serious psychological toll on those who experienced it too often—a bug the Devs had failed to iron out before launch. No doubt, Forge would be having nightmares about this for years
to come. Still, considering the circumstances, one player dead instead of the whole team pushing up daisies was a win, even if a small one. I let out a sigh and pressed my eyes shut, feeling a sudden exhaustion settle over me like a blanket as all my hot-blooded adrenaline leaked away.
I fished a pair of Health Regen potions from my belt and killed them both, letting their magic go to work in my body. Then, I just lay there for a couple of minutes, enjoying the green carpet and the sweet smell from the flowers scattered around the glade. Eventually, someone cleared their throat, rousing me from a hazy near-sleep. Begrudgingly, I cracked my eyes. Abby loomed over me, concern carved into her face, making her look a couple of years older. “You okay?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow, then stealing a look at my boots.
“I’ve been better,” I replied, mustering the strength to sit. “Cutter?” I asked.
She frowned and hooked a thumb over one shoulder. The thief was sprawled in the grass, looking defeated, dejected, and like the victim of a murder investigation. His blond hair was charred in places, his skin, covered in sooty dust, and blood adorned most of one leg. Amara sat beside him, legs crossed Indian-style as she dabbed at him with a damp rag. Vlad was sprawled out in one of the carved wooden ceremonial chairs, glum and gloomy as a late winter’s day.
“Everyone’s feeling a bit down,” she admitted with a grimace and a shrug. “That definitely wasn’t the way anyone expected things to turn out. Some part of me was secretly hoping we’d be able to reason with that monster, like you did with the Spider Queen, but that’s a lost cause.” She paused, fidgeting with the folds of her robes. “Forget reasoning with her, I’m not even sure there’s a way to beat her. We didn’t know what to expect going in, but I feel like we did everything in our power, and we didn’t even come close to killing her. We weren’t even in the ballpark.”