PreCursive
patreon
Chapter 190 - Ursa
🕑 Added 2024-06-05 17:00:08 +0000 UTCWithout another word, Longstripe charged me.
I nearly died in the first few moments of the first exchange. Longstripe wasn’t bothering to hold back much at all. I think the only reason I was able to dodge his massive fist as it lanced out at my head was because my core ring had thrown my body into a dodge at the first hint of movement from the man. As it was, I only managed to duck under the fist by a literal hair's breadth. My hair was blown back from the sheer wind pressure of his might alone.
I didn’t manage to dodge the follow-up knee strike from him, though.
The force of the General's massive knee impacting my chest was strong enough that I felt myself get launched up and back, somehow tumbling through the air from the sheer power alone. I only barely retained enough presence of mind to try and lash out at him with my still-ignited spear tip, in the moments before I was blown backward. I don’t know if I hit him or not, because I was too busy slamming into the stone of the warehouse floor, my head bouncing off of the quarried rock painfully.
I think I would have died right then if not for the fact I had multiple streams of thought. While my outermost ring’s vision had whited out from the impact, my middle ring seized control this time and rolled me sideways. In the split second before I had hit the floor, it had seen how close my landing position was to the ring of observing, bloodthirsty soldiers.
To my side, I heard the sound of a sword clanging off the stone where I had just been laying, moments ago.
I staggered to my feet using my spear as a crutch and skipped drunkenly away from the circle’s edge as my vision started to come back into focus. As I did so, a spike of pain was intense enough to pierce through my dampening. I clutched my chest and grimaced, finding it suddenly more difficult to breathe.
I think Longstripe had fractured a few of my ribs with that one, single blow. Not enough that I was suddenly in danger of dying, but enough to hinder me. Not only that, but I’m pretty sure my head had been split open, at least a little. I could feel a slow trickle of blood oozing its way down the back of my neck, originating from my scalp.
I had to be more careful. In just one exchange, Longstripe had almost crippled me.
Almost absentmindedly, my core ring wondered why Longstripe hadn’t followed up on his blow while I was prone. He was certainly strong enough, ruthless enough, and pissed enough to have done so.
When my vision cleared enough to see again, I beheld the sight of Longstripe gazing down at the back of his left forearm. Carved into the back of it was a long, even gash, deep enough I could see bone showing through it. Even though it was a deep wound, considering his advanced level, it was barely oozing blood at all. Despite the severity of the wound, Longstripe didn’t seem alarmed by it. No, instead, he was looking down at it almost wonderingly.
“Would you look at that?” The General said interestedly, twisting his arm back and forth to get a better look at the gash. It was so deep, and so bloodless, that I could see individual muscle fibers contract with the movement. Longstripe clucked his tongue and shook his head. “That’s some Skill you have, murderer, that you can hurt me with it. I wonder how you got it?”
I didn’t bother with replying, despite how the sight of the cut caused my heart to leap in my chest. That just proved I could hurt the man, if only with The Scintillant Blade.
Instead, I just pointed my left hand at the man and cast another Skill.
Grasping Roots.
Thick crimson tree roots covered in barbs and thorns erupted from the floor of the warehouse to wrap around the General's legs, trying to dig into his flesh. They didn’t manage it, though, instead only grinding against the surface of his leg armor with a shriek that reminded me of nails on a chalkboard. Still, they’d done their job by at least wrapping around his legs.
I charged at him, never once having let go of Sylvan Vigor at full strength. Even with as used to the Skill as I’d gotten, and the stamina for its usage I’d built up, it was difficult to hold it at max power for so long. I hadn't let up on the enhancement ability once during the entire battle, and could feel fatigue trying to settle over me. Hopefully I could finish this soon, and it would be enough.
It wasn’t.
I’m not sure Longstripe even noticed the roots. He shrugged, finally tearing his gaze away from his arm to look at me. “I guess I’ll just tear the answer from your screaming, limb-less torso, cutthroat,” He said cruelly. He took a single step forward, tearing through the roots I’d conjured like they were so much wet tissue paper.
By that time, I had gotten into melee distance with the man. I aimed one palm underhand up at the man and launched another Poisonthorn Shot at his face. I know it couldn’t hurt him by this point, but I was at least hoping the poison could obstruct his vision. At the same time, I tried to skewer him with the brilliantly burning leaf-shaped blade of my spear.
That didn’t work either.
Longstripe didn’t even flinch at the thorn shot at his face, he just tilted his head to the side slightly and let it pass him by harmlessly. But he was, seemingly, properly wary of the blade of my spear.
I just…wasn’t fast enough to actually hit him with it.
Longstripe batted my spear away from his vital organs before it could pierce him with the back of one fist, nearly wrenching the weapon out of my hands. I had to rapidly maneuver the haft of my Oninite spear between my body and his fist, in the microsecond it took before it could impact me.
The length of Kawamaran metal visibly flexed under the force of the blow.
Still.
That didn’t save me.
I didn’t even see his other hand coming, until it was too late.
In a split second, Longstripe’s massive ursine hand had closed around my throat. He squeezed down hard enough that my airways almost completely shuttered. I instinctively gasped and tried to struggle against his grip, but nothing I did mattered. I just wasn’t strong enough to break his grasp.
The onlooking Loyalist soldiers cheered at the sight of me hanging in midair, suspended in the grasp of their leader.
Meanwhile, Longstripe had ripped my spear out of my hands in order to cast a critical eye over it. He whistled at the sight. “Not bad, I have to say,” He said, almost admiringly. “This is a quality weapon if it can take a punch from me and not break. I suppose the puppets of insurrectionists are granted powerful weapons, these days. But, I’ll be sure to gift it to someone more worthy than you, murderer. You won’t need it, after all, once I tear you limb from limb.”
Somehow, I managed to draw enough breath in order to chuckle painfully at Longstripe. He blinked at me, a little taken aback. “Oh? Is some amusing, cutthroat?”
“Two…things…” I rasped painfully, barely able to breathe. Assured of his victory, Longstripe seemed confident enough to loosen his grasp, if only slightly. I used the chance to fill my lungs with a gasp before chuckling again and smirking at the General. “It doesn’t matter…if you won. I already accomplished…my goal. Look…around.”
Longstripe flicked his eyes up to look beyond the circle of soldiers. As I’d expected, the fighting outside of our little confrontation was completely finished. There were no more Nocturne Agents in the crumbling warehouse for him or his men to try and cull. My comrades had taken the opening I’d given them for escape and lived to fight another day.
Even Sylvia was gone. Whether that meant she’d truly fled the battle, or was just hanging around under an illusionary cloak, I had no way to know. But despite everything, I truly wished she had gone.
At the very least, one of us could survive this.
Longstripe actually chuckled then, shaking his head ruefully. “Ah…I see,” He said knowingly, looking down at me. “Tell me, murderer, was any of what you said even truthful? Or was this all just a diversion, so your rats could flee this sinking ship?”
I shrugged as much as I was able. “Some,” I admitted. But I didn’t elaborate any further.
That seemed to be enough for Longstripe, though. “Hmm, well. It doesn’t matter,” He said decisively. “We’ll mop up the rest of them later. But you…whether you are who you say you are, and even if you didn’t kill as many of my men as you said you did. You’re still a traitor, and traitors all meet the same end. I have a threat to carry out, after all.” Having said that, Longstripe reached out and grasped my golden left arm, still concealed under its elbow-length leather glove. His grip tightened on it, only for his brow to furrow in confusion when it didn’t give like flesh would. Curious, he changed his hold in order to rip off the glove I had on.
In moments, my golden arm was revealed to the world.
Confused mutters erupted from the onlookers, as General Longstripe was visibly astonished for the first time since I’d first laid eyes on him.
“Is he…a Sculpted?” I heard one baffled soldier ask, to uncertain mutters from his companions.
“What the hells is this?” Longstripe said, bewildered. “What did you do to yourself, cutthroat? Don’t tell me…” He suddenly started chuckling, almost unprompted. “D-did you…did you replace one of your hands with a Sculpted one?!” He started howling in laughter then, in earnest. “It’s almost poetic! The Sculpted sympathizing rebel, sympathizing so hard he becomes part automaton! The sheer audacity!”
For the first time since he’d grabbed hold of me, the General took his eyes off me and threw his head back.
And laughed.
Confusion chuckles emerged from the throats of the onlookers, as they imitated their leader. But…
This was my chance.
Now.
Ealier, when I’d sheathed my second dagger, I hadn’t put it into its usual left sheathe. From the beginning, I’d been planning on just this gambit. Well, not specifically one where I was held by the throat, but certainly one where I was close enough, and Longstripe was incautious enough, to take his eyes away from me.
Because I’d put that dagger in the right sheathe, and…
He was holding my left arm.
In as smooth of a motion as I could manage, I unsheathed that dagger, ignited it in the roiling rainbow flames of The Scintillant Blade…
And rammed it into his guts at an angle.
Longstripe’s laughing abruptly stopped, as the man slowly lowered his head to where he was looking back down at me. He stared into my eyes in incomprehension for a moment, before staring down at the blade in his belly. His grip on my throat lightened, but not enough to release me.
Enough for me to lean and say something to the man, though. “You were saying how good my weapons were?” I hissed to the General. “Well, let me show you what they’re good for.”
Without another word, I depressed the activation rune on my dagger, still buried up to the hilt in his gullet.
Immediately, it exploded to its full length, piercing straight through him and erupting out of his back in an explosion of gore. Behind him, I could see the fiery rainbow head of my spear glowing like a meteor over his shoulder. Longstripe choked, staring at me disbelievingly before he slumped to his knees with me still in his grasp. Feeling my chance, I tried to struggle away from him, but…
For some reason, his grip remained strong.
Longstripe looked over his shoulder for a moment at the spear jutting out of his back, before turning to face me. He chuckled painfully, reaching up to grab my skull with both of his hands. I struggled, but couldn’t get away as he spoke. “Almost,” He rasped in agony. “Almost…but not quite, cutthroat.”
The last thing I saw was Longstripe’s skull rocketing towards mine in a headbutt.
Before the world went dark.
…………………………..
AN 2:
Cast your minds all the way back to Book 1, and how Azarus wasn’t very phased to have been stabbed by Nate.
There you’ll have your answer as to why Nate’s last attack didn’t instantly kill Atticus.
Still, it was a good try. As he said.
Almost.
<<Chapter 189 | Table of Contents | Chapter 191>>
Comments
Nomad
Damn! It's a shame that he didn't try to aim for his heart or his head, maybe even his neck. I really need to see what happens next!
