by Aaron Oster
Violet light flared across his body, spiraling up over both his arms and shaping themselves into whirling cones of destruction. Morgan’s favorite lances came into being in under a second, and he darted in to jab at the bear’s side. They were so thickly surrounded by enemy monster though that his blow caught four of them, shredding their bodies to a fine bloody mist as he did so.
The bear, in a feat nimbler than its bulky appearance suggested, flapped its oversized wings and neatly dodged the attack, slashing out with its claws which glowed an icy blue. Morgan’s other lance morphed into a shield, catching the blow and deflecting the blast of ice out to the sides, where they speared straight through six of the surrounding monsters.
Morgan’s knees buckled only slightly under the force of the attack, his massive Strength lending itself to keeping him on his feet. The two of them backed off then, their initial probing attacks complete and prepared for the real fight ahead.
The twisted monsters, finally realizing what was about to happen, began to swarm around them, leaving an open area to fight, no longer even trying to attack him. Morgan knew that this was a sign that someone intelligent was around. Over his time fighting these monsters, he’d discovered that they were basically mindless savages. Only when someone intelligent and powerful was around could they perform more complex maneuvers.
He didn’t have time to look around though, as the bear let out another of its earth-shaking roars, releasing a wave of icy cold that froze the very snow in the air in place. It charged, crashing through the multitude of floating icy flakes and shattering them. Wherever the snowflakes landed, they began growing and expanding, until the bear was covered in an icy layer of armor, turning itself into the equivalent of a charging iceberg.
Morgan wasn’t idle throughout this, his violet armor flowing up over his chest and legs. Red and blue lightning crackled along his twin lances, the blades screaming as they whirled ever faster. He charged, meeting the massive beast head-on.
Their collision buckled the ground, sending out a shockwave that knocked the closest monsters clean off their feet. Morgan grinned as the icy armor along the bear’s body cracked and felt his own armor giving way as well. Spidery cracks appeared along the armor on his chest as spiny icicles suddenly exploded from the bear’s body. He staggered back under the force but managed to retain his footing and struck back, even as the bear’s paw shot out once more.
His lance pierced the bear’s armor and drilled straight into its body, shredding fur, flesh, and bone. Morgan wasn’t done yet, releasing all five charges, one after the next. The bear’s paw, which had been heading on a collision course with his head, twitched, then dropped as the bear’s body began convulsing.
It roared as its muscles locked up, keeping it in place, and Morgan used the opportunity to slam his second lance right into its eye. He grinned as blood splattered on to his face, the screaming lance of purple energy ripping through the bear’s skull before he released its payload as well. The resulting explosion of viscera painted the surroundings in a shower of crimson, and when the beast’s headless corpse fell to the ground, it left Morgan feeling distinctly unsatisfied.
The lances over his arms shrank down until they merely covered his fists, mimicking a pair of gauntlets. He then moved to retrieve the bear’s core. Ever since he’d moved from Intermediate to Advanced, everything had become less of a challenge. Sure, fighting powerful Advanced beasts was still hard, but not nearly as hard as it had once been.
Before his advancement, it would have taken both him and Sarah a good ten minutes to take that bear down, and he’d undoubtedly have been hurt along the way. Now, he’d killed the rank 46 Advanced beast in just a couple of minutes. He figured he should be grateful it hadn’t been longer and that he managed to conserve most of his RP, but still, he found himself yearning for more of a challenge.
Tearing the core free, Morgan absorbed the energy and Ability Points, adding to his already massive collection. Doing a quick check, he saw that he was nearly by the next rank. Just a little more, and he’d push past what had once been the halfway mark in his advancement. Now, though, with no level restrictions in place, he could theoretically continue growing forever.
The core turned to sparkling powder at his feet, and Morgan turned once again to the onslaught of the twisted beasts who continually ran past him. They weren’t even trying to fight, just trying to avoid any contact with him at all costs, not that it made a difference. Morgan ripped through their ranks like a shovel through soft snow. Hundreds fell before him, yet they continued coming, not stopping their forward charge.
Rocketing up into the air, Morgan squinted through the swirling snow toward the city walls. He’d traveled a fair distance since the battle’s start and could see that the walls were under assault. Thousands of monsters crowded between the walls and the two mountains it was built between. This was the only way to access the city from the north, and the only reason they had yet to be surrounded. Both City Eleven and Twelve were built in the valley of two mountains, meaning that they each only had a single open-facing wall each. And seeing as the wall to City Twelve was in the West Kingdom, this was the Pinnacle King’s only point of attack.
Even from way out here, he could hear the loud crashing booms of the dropped stones, as well as the crack of the oversized crossbows. This was the clash of weapons, the struggle between the humans and beasts as they desperately fought to keep the walls clear. He could see some beasts up on the walls already, meaning that they would now be hard-pressed to hold the defenses.
One would think that a one-hundred-and-fifty-foot wall would be a deterrence, but to beasts who didn’t care about their lives, it only served to slow them down. Letting out an annoyed growl, Morgan prepared to head back. Just at that moment, he saw a brilliant flash of rainbow-colored light flare atop the walls.
There was an explosion of red as every monster on top of the wall was killed at once. Several more flashes along the wall sent those climbing to their deaths or falling back to the ground below. He grinned as he caught sight of Katherine. Her oversized mace was clutched in one hand, while her other extended and projected blasts of the rainbow light which was so effectively killing the monsters.
Seeing that the battle on the wall was under control, Morgan instead began casting around for the commanders of this force. If he could kill them, this force would be a lot less coordinated and, thus, easier to defeat. All he needed to do now was find the few leaders in this massive pack of twisted monsters.
It would be harder to sense them, even with his Aura Sense, than regular beasts. They blended in too well with their forces’ auras, which was extremely frustrating. He was forced to do things the old-fashioned way — causing as much destruction as he could in the hopes of drawing them out. Morgan used his Rupture skill, turning over huge chunks of earth beneath the monsters, flattening them and reducing entire sections to red paste.
It was a blatant waste of RP and one that he really didn’t like doing. However, he doubted he’d draw anyone out by simply mowing their minions down by hand. Besides, this was far more efficient, and he quite enjoyed the sight of the enemy being squished that way.
His Aura Sense flared a sudden warning, and Morgan rolled to one side, cutting off his attack as a blast of red-tinged ice flashed past, missing him by a hair’s breadth. Whirling in place, Morgan looked down to see a hulking figure covered in gray-white fur and clutching a bow staff made of icy blue metal.
A fluttering white beard streamed from his bestial face, and two fangs curved up from his lower lip. A quick examination told Morgan that this was one of the commanders, though his looks alone pretty much gave that away.
Name: Grimfaye
Rank - 48
Ability Type - Bestial Mage
Grimfaye spun his staff once more, thrusting the butt end towards him. This time, Morgan saw the red-tinged mana flowing through the monster’s body before entering the staff and blasting toward him. The gauntlet on Morgan’s right hand exten
ded into an oversized wedge, splitting the attack and sending it off to either side of him.
When he shattered the ice from the shield, he found that a second and third blast were already upon him. Morgan grinned then, dismissing his gauntlet and reaching down to his waist where the colorful spheres sat, just waiting to be used.
It looked like he’d finally found himself a half-decent fight.
3
Grimfaye, fourth in command under Arnold, grinned as his surprise attack slammed into the cocky boy flying above him. He’d heard stories from Arnold about the boy and had been told not to engage him. However, when Morgan had begun wiping out his troops by the hundreds, he’d had little choice. It seemed that Arnold had been exaggerating, as his attacks had hit without the boy even having the time to react.
Grimfaye had once been the Captain of the Guard to the Lord of City Fourteen. He spent his entire life in servitude, constantly bending to the whims of the pompous nobility and acting as their bitch. Whenever Lord Gavin had needed something done, no matter how paltry, he’d seen fit to call upon him to personally perform said task.
Sometimes, it was executing a prisoner or sending a message to another city lord. Once, he’d even called him into his private chambers to take his dirty dishes down to the kitchens. He had been the Captain of the Guard, and the asshole had had him doing menial labor! And every time he’d done so, he’d see that same look of smug satisfaction in the Lord’s eyes. It had given the man a sick sense of pleasure to make someone of Grimfaye’s position do such menial labor, and he’d made him do it over and over again.
It was his blinding hatred for his City Lord that had kept his mind focused when he’d been injected with the Pinnacle King’s power. When he’d come out at the other end, he had received a massive boost to his power. His rank doubled, going from 24 to 48, and when the Pinnacle King had made him an offer, he did not hesitate to accept it.
The Master was going to make a new world order. One where no one would answer to anyone but him. No city lords, no kings or queens. Only Octagon’s supreme rule. While others might not think it any better, Grimfaye knew the truth. While Octagon was cruel and merciless to his enemies and to those who failed him, he was a wise and just man, even if he was a beast.
His power was absolute, and no one could hope to challenge him, so he felt no need to belittle those beneath him. Over the past month, Grimfaye had been promoted twice and was now the fourth in command over the entire military and had his own personal force. The flying boy had been troubling the Master for far too long, and now he was going to ensure the enemy didn’t make it out of this battle alive.
“That was an impressive attack.”
Grimfaye’s eyes narrowed as the ice encasing the boy shattered. He’d known that Morgan was still alive, as the ice hadn’t fallen from the sky, but he wasn’t expecting for him to be completely unharmed. He looked different now as well, his skin shining with a reddish-black sheen that had been missing before.
No matter, he thought, twirling his staff once again.
The power that the Master had given him was far greater than this boy could ever hope to comprehend. A few more good shots ought to end him.
Grimfaye grinned, stepping forward and twirling his staff, the icy-blue metal blurring through the air and creating a thrumming sound as it sped up. He then channeled his mana into a skill and unleashed it in a massive blast. A cyclone of whirling snow and ice exploded outward, howling into the sky and catching the boy off-guard once again.
This attack would tear him to pieces, while simultaneously freezing him from the inside out. No one had survived this attack before, so the boy was as good as dead. Or so Grimfaye thought.
That was why, when Morgan exploded from the wall of whirling ice just a few feet from him, his body now seemingly on fire, that Grimfaye was so shocked. The boy grinned, his hand dropping to his belt. As soon as his hand moved, his body changed once again, now covered in writhing green tendrils that made him nauseating to look at.
The boy gestured, and a spiraling lance of what appeared to be vines shot from his arm, twisting and whirling on a direct course with Grimfaye’s head. He snarled, whipping his staff up and around, slamming the attack to one side. He then pivoted, bringing the other end of his staff up to slam into the boy’s unprotected head.
Or at least, he tried to. The boy’s body shifted once again, taking on a light-yellow tint, and he slid effortlessly out of the way, easily avoiding the attack. The blast of ice he’d focused into the end of the staff went wide, missing the boy by a mile and costing him precious MP. Growling, he whirled the staff around once more, beginning a series of rapid short strikes, each infused with his mana.
The boy’s body changed yet again, now an odd grayish color. His hands moved in a blur, knocking aside each attack as though it were nothing. He even managed to skillfully disperse the blasts of ice, knocking them into his own attacking forces instead of ending the boy. Seeing that this wasn’t working, Grimfaye leaped back, sliding both hands to one end of his staff and bringing it down hard onto the ground.
A wave of ice exploded from the tip, flowing out in a massive AOE attack that the boy couldn’t hope to dodge. There was no way he’d be able to fly out of the way fast enough, and he had nowhere to run. This was Grimfaye’s most powerful attack, called the Iceberg Tsunami, and there was no way the boy could live through this.
Grimfaye was in for a disappointment. He felt his smile slipping from his as the boy triggered what must have been his most powerful technique. A ball of whirling orange and red impacted with his wall of ice, expanding into a fiery inferno and evaporating it in an instant. The heat was so intense that Grimfaye could feel the oxygen leeching from his surroundings, all going to fuel this massive explosion.
However, if he’d thought the attack would end there, he was mistaken. Even as the whirling ball of flaming death began to shrink, the entire area within a hundred feet exploded. Only Grimfaye’s hastily throw-up Mage Shield stopped him from transforming into a smoking pile of ash. As it was, he felt several of his bones break under the immense force of the explosion and was thrown back a good fifty feet, slamming into the now scorched and bare earth several times before coming to a halt.
Groaning in agony, Grimfaye pushed himself to his hands and knees, looking around at the devastation this boy’s attack had brought. The explosion had been so powerful and hot, that the stone near its epicenter had melted, leaving a pool of molten rock in the middle of the battlefield.
The boy was completely unharmed, floating over the pool of melted stone and approaching with a look of mild disappointment.
“I know you’re two ranks below me,” he said, stopping before him and folding his arms. “But I was really hoping for more of a challenge.”
“Die!” Grimfaye yelled, sending an explosion of icy shrapnel to Morgan’s face.
He slowly stood up, wincing as the broken bones in his ribs and left arm ground painfully together. It was not a problem. He could always get it healed when this was all over. For now, though…
“Is that really it?”
Grimfaye was shocked to see the boy standing there, still completely unhurt.
“I mean, if you wanna try again, I won’t stop you.”
Grimfaye didn’t hesitate, pulling up the last of his MP and using an attack that could shatter solid stone and bend steel. His Ice Shrapnel had been the downfall of many humans since his transformation, and at this range, there was no way he could fail.
The boy didn’t budge, and Grimfaye watched in shocked horror as the ice simply shattered against his skin instead of shredding him to ribbons. The fourth in command felt true fear then, the likes of which he’d not felt from anyone but the Master. A violet light seemed to flicker in his eyes and an aura of menace hung thick in the air.
Then, the boy’s body exploded in purple flames, and Grimfaye found himself forced to the ground once more, feeling a heavy weight settling down over his very soul. Sweat began pouring
from his body, soaking his fur and causing him to shiver. His heart was pounding so hard he feared it might beat out of his chest, and the feeling of pure terror that settled over him would likely have killed him had he been just a few ranks lower.
His eyes were inexorably drawn upward as the boy’s shadow fell over him, his presence looming so large that it seemed to blot out the entire sky. Now he understood why Arnold had not wanted any of them to face him. This was no boy.
“You’re… You’re a monster!” Grimfaye gasped, his eyes wide and body shaking uncontrollably.
“So I’ve been told,” the boy said.
He then raised his hand, glowing with a nimbus of violet light.
Grimfaye imagined he saw the barest flicker of red and blue before his body was wracked with a horrific burning sensation. Just before the light faded from his eyes, Grimfaye felt the presence of the Master, a looming force standing over him and looking on in disappointment. Then, the world faded to black.
***
Morgan stood back as the beast’s body grew still and noted an immediate change in the beasts around him. Instead of being a focused and driving force, they now seemed a lot less organized, running wildly in all directions, seeking to destroy anything living. When they were not under the direct control of something greater, this was their default behavior.
If anything, they might actually be more dangerous this way. However, in this particular situation, with a massive wall standing in their way, they were far less of a threat. He cast one last glance over to the fallen commander before floating up into the air. Grimfaye had been far less of a challenge than he’d thought he would be. Despite his relatively high rank, his attacks had felt weak, pitifully so.