OctupleCompressedNeodymium

  DV implications / mentions

  [colpse]

  Xajymzia smiled as the priest tried to heal his shoulder, only for him to grit his teeth in pain. Fruitless effort. She had loaded a special trick into the bullets. Applying mana to it by any mean, including healing spells, would make it conjure acid.

  A nasty trick, but one Xajymzia liked. She had considered using her radiological weapons, but ultimately stuck with chemical warfare instead. The primary reason is that she did not know what they knew and learned from that Rickard, while this acid bullet trick would function even if they knew.

  Mostly, her objective right now was to disable them and keep her advantage. She could have moved immediately for the kill, but her training fighting the constructs had made Xajymzia realize something about herself.

  She enjoyed pying with her food. To watch her enemies slowly sink deeper into fear and despair as she slowly overpowered them, to see the terror dancing in their eyes. It had been the case for the archer and her final dance at the hangman's, the brawler slowly watching as her guts fell out of her body, the women realizing that they were going to die as pain warped their features.

  It was a crucial difference she had with Zoemie, who only fought when cornered or out of options. While no one could call Zoemie "sweet", she had an innate sense of... something Xajymzia couldn't put a finger on, that made it hard for Zoemie to detach herself from her enemy's humanity and go for the kill. And when she did, it was swift and crushing.

  Efficient, however. Whereas pying with your enemies wasn't efficient in the slightest. But while Xajymzia could suppress that instinct in a life-or-death battle, this wasn't a life-or-death battle for her. It was merely crushing some gnats who had the indecency of showing up and willing Zoemie ill. So she might as well enjoy herself while doing so.

  They would never even see Zoemie, let alone get to attempt to y a finger on her. It was far too dangerous, considering the... tendencies towards women that any man cavorting with this Rickard was likely to have.

  One of the men screamed. Fools, Xajymzia thought, a sense of satisfaction rising within her body, grinning as she loaded another bullet and aimed to miss. The two men in front of her ducked, getting slowly more desperate.

  This is merely the beginning of your dance of damnation.

  The axeman circled carefully as the mage and the old wizard exchanged spells and barbs. "Hmph. Is that all so-called heroes of Xvodane are capable of ?", the old wizard said, clearly mocking them. The axeman cmped down on his rage. He had no idea what the old bastard was trying to do, but he couldn't afford to be careless.

  "Maybe if you stopped counterspelling all the damn time !" the mage shouted, the axeman staring at him. The man was always a bit prone to getting frustrated when an enemy didn't take him seriously or denied too many of his spells, and the old wizard clearly realized this.

  It hadn't been a problem so far since most of the monsters or bandits they had fought didn't have the magical knowledge to do that, but against an experienced mage, it was a different story. Just what is this old bastard even doing here ? This is a dungeon, not a retirement home !

  "Your technique is sloppy and careless.", the old wizard replied, moving around slowly to keep both of them into his field of vision. The axeman gritted his teeth. This guy is experienced. He couldn't use any of his ranged attacks either, the old wizard would dispel his mana.

  Throwing his axe seemed unwise, it was his best weapon by far, and trying to pull out a second one out of storage would likely lead to more dispelling. What's his strategy ?, the axeman asked himself. He couldn't make head or tails of what the old man was trying to do.

  "I wonder if women find you sloppy and careless too ? I struggle to think of any other reason men like you would ever become heroes.", the old man taunted, the mage almost popping a vein in his forehead. The axeman shrugged it off, though. He was married, that kind of taunt wouldn't work on him.

  Rickard's leg buckled under the pressure of the hit, before casting a fireball in the general direction. This darkness was the worst. Nothing he had seemed to be able to pierce it, and he could barely see further than his own damn nose.

  Sure didn't bother whatever he was fighting, though. It wielded a sword, apparently, and it was fuckoff strong. He was thankful for the magic resistance talisman he had st... obtained from that woman, as he would've definitely been fried alive otherwise. It had been a boon from otherwise unwelcome trouble.

  Heroes didn't bring or get in trouble, after all. It was perhaps the nicest thing about his position, the ability to do as he wished. Not helping me here, though. He made a literal stab in the dark, and hit nothing but thin air. Can't risk overcommitting.

  Rickard disliked having to py it slow and careful, but he had to do so, considering his current situation. He was alone in the dark, after all, and his enemy was really strong. He channeled some mana into his shield, repairing it. This thing alone has proven itself worth the investment already.

  His shield was gaining nicks and buffs from the sheer power of the repeated hits, but the worst part for Rickard was that he wasn't connecting a single hit. He had managed to hit something, apparently, but it got deflected by... he didn't even know what it was.

  He blocked another smash, starting from below this time, and tried to stab straight, but he hit nothing but empty air. He gritted his teeth, ducking to avoid another practiced, but inexpert hit that was aiming for his neck.

  He was getting tired and out of breath, none of his buddies were anywhere to be seen or heard. What was sir Kvutar even doing here ? He felt his resolve return. "You killed him, didn't you ? Sir Kvutar !", he shouted in the darkness, but he heard nothing in return... except gulping noises. Noises he could recognize. They're drinking a potion !

  Rickard detected the location of the sound, and lunged, but he hit nothing but empty air. He spun around, deflecting the incoming strike on his exposed back, only not losing his footing because of his enchanted shinguards.

  Remember, boy. the master of arms' voice echoed within his head. In a real, life-or-death fight, chivalry, honor, that's all bollocks. The only thing that matters... Rickard deflected another hit. ...is being the st man standing.

  I need to protect myself at close range, Rickard thought, and he grinned. He waited for the next attack, and after deflecting it he stomped his foot, conjuring around him a barrier of fire appeared. Now get over here and try to fight me !

  The rogue ducked under another projectile, and suddenly another projectile came. Already ? Whatever they were fighting was ramping up. Then something rocked the forest around him. The birds flew away, the monsters fled, the trees shook and a few leaves fell from them.

  He had felt the presence, it raised the hairs on the back of his neck. All they had done so far is run. The rogue's weapon were a shortbow and a dagger, neither were of much use here. He couldn't bypass the trees easily.

  There were enchantments for such purposes, but they never managed to find an enchanter capable of applying those despite their position, and his shortbow was unsuited for very long-range combat. The priest did have his healing powers, but they seemed ineffective against the projectile, the bullet as Rickard called it, lodged in his shoulder.

  Suddenly, the presence moved in front of them, somewhat closer... and then his priest buddy gurgled, knocked back. The rogue immediately moved next to him, his adventuring partner hit in the stomach. It was the same burning smell the shoulder wound had.

  "G... go !", the priest tried to order, but the rogue would have none of that. They had been through much together. He lifted the priest over his shoulder as the man started to gag, and started running before he finally faced the presence that had been harrying and tormenting them all this time.

  It looked like a woman, wearing what appeared to be a maid outfit, in what the rogue realized was a "camo" pattern, that one of Rickard's Outsider friends had spoken about. Her skin was only somewhat human-looking, having reddish-purple shades that were unfamiliar to the rogue.

  But its face, the texture of her hair, the shape of her hands, it all made it clear to him that what he was facing was not human at all, nor a demon for that matter. Sadistic pleasure danced in its eyes, the rogue feeling every hair on his back stiffen and freeze.

  "I am Xajymzia", the creature spoke. It's voice was feminine, if slightly low, and dripping with evident malice. It grinned, before the rogue pulled out his shortbow and shot her in the eye. His mouth went agape in horror as the arrow slid off like he had shot solid metal. What is this thing ? Its grin grew wider.

  "I find your attempts to harm me... amusing", it said. "Come. Let us dance your final dance... a dance of damnation. You never shall leave this pce. Like that old priest, that came before you.", she continued, her mouth opening in amusement as rage built in the two men, the rogue preparing a special weapon.

  "I... It was you ! Sir... Kv... Kvutar !", the priest shouted, his legs shaking behind the rogue, trying and failing to get up. Let's see how you like this !, the rogue thought as he dashed and stabbed the thing in the mouth, channeling mana and dripping the potent toxin the knife was coated in inside its jaw. "The Heavens... sha... shall smite you !", the priest cimed.

  The thing... smiled, and sent the rogue flying with a swing of its arm.. "Amusing. But futile. I am immune to all poisons, after all.". Then, it approached the priest, its face icy. "You cim the Heavens have called for my end. But let me show you the truth of their request..." Its face turned into a rge, sinister grin, only its eyes betraying unfathomable depths of loathing for them. "...for your end."

  "Silence ! You lie !", the rogue said, the monster simply smiling as it tried to shoot at him, which he easily dodged, before going for the neck, the dagger scraping off as if he was stabbing metal. Is this thing made of metal ?

  It ignored his attack, its head moving to face the priest, and its eyes turned steel gray.

  So did the priest's. The man shook for a second.

  The monster's eyes returned to their bck sclera.

  The priest died on the spot.

  Yuulvan looked at the two men under him, thinking a bit about how to taunt them effectively. I need the axeman to charge me. "Gah !", the mage shouted in frustration. "Stop disrupting my spells and py fair, dammit !"

  "Not that it would help you.", Yuulvan answered with a smile. Zoemie's curse prevented them from hurting him gravely, after all. Not that they even realized it. "She's far more of an hero that you people ever were.", he continued, a smug, taunting grin hiding the true depths of his contempt for the men in front of him.

  The mage's eyes opened wide, he looked to almost pop a forehead vein. "Silence ! All you are is an old fool out of his depth.", he shouted in answer, the axeman staring at him, displeased, while circling around him and looking for an opening. Getting somewhere.

  "And all you are is a reject from some magic academy and a steer of a man.", Yuulvan answered. The axeman's eyes bulged out in rage. I can py this game too.

  "You'd better not speak like this, you old bastard.", the axeman spat, Yuulvan's grin getting wider. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." There we go. A sore spot. Now he needed to apply the proper pressure.

  "Well, that old priest certainly thought he knew what he was getting into.", Yuulvan answered, the two men snapping to attention and focusing on him utterly. "It didn't save him from her. It shan't save you from me either."

  Both of the men stared daggers at him as they moved slowly across the clearing. He smiled, and turned to the axe-wielding man. "I wonder if your wife knows about the "rewards" you've been getting from the womenfolk.", he said.

  The burly man's eyes squinted, but Yuulvan could sense he was still calm within his head as he tried to find a comeback. "...I can sense it, you know.", Yuulvan said first. "Both of you are the kind of men who should never have been granted power over a woman."

  His eyes narrowed as he let his true contempt roll out of his mouth, like a thick bck fog resting uneasy above the ground. "I wonder how much you've lied about. How much you screamed at and hit her. I saw what happen to this kind of men, once."

  He could remember the look in the eyes of the woman's nephew. It must have had been an harrowing day for them. They had been lucky he was passing by, and that he had an old friend who could assist in that situation.

  "I ain't a bad guy.", the axeman answered. "I don't choke her; that's what bad guys do. And for the rest, it's her own damn fault for pissin' me off !" He looked at Yuulvan, who blocked a spell from the mage without even looking. "Be careful 'round me, old man. You really don't wanna piss me off."

  "I don't want to anger the Warden of this pce.", Yuulvan answered with a smile. "But unlike you, she's a mostly agreeable person once you get to know her." His smile turned almost grandfatherly as he said so. Zoemie was not exactly friendly or sweet, but she had a sense of nobility that he couldn't deny. Like a warming soup that's a touch too spicy.

  "But a whelp like you ?", Yuulvan said. "Come, do your worst. I am sure it won't even be a quarter to what you did to your wife. She shall certainly enjoy her next lover's embrace much more than yours, more than the relief she feels when you're out of town.", he continued.

  The axeman unlimbered his axe. "You asked for it !", he screamed as he charged, preparing for a swing from shoulder to hip. Perfect. Yuulvan channeled mana within the boulders, making them speed up.

  "Wait !", the mage tried to say, but it was too te. Yuulvan uncovered the spell that hid the boulders. The axeman's face turned into shock, but he couldn't stop his charge in time.

  A boulder smashed the man in the side, gouging off part of his body. The pungent smell of blood quickly started to fill the clearing as he was sent flying and his body hit a tree with a thud.

  Yuulvan smiled, the mage panicking as blood coated the serene grass of the Greatwoods.

  He stared at the mage as terror and fear filled the mage's eyes.

  "Hmm. I feel bad for that tree.", Yuulvan said.

  Zoemie smiled as she looked a the bastard, surrounded by a wall of fire. Gotcha. Now to not screw this up. She started by raising walls in an half-circle behind and around him to prevent him from escaping, out of his line of sight, the noise silenced by her Warden powers.

  Only one shot. Then, she bent her knees, conjuring a rge boulder, the same kind Yuulvan used in his spells. She braced her back and arms, and Zoemie threw the boulder with cataclysmic force.

  It sailed through the air with an heavy noise, Rickard unable to even see it coming as the boulder smashed into his shoulder. Zoemie almost looked away as the shield went flying and hit the wall, Zoemie immediately teleporting it into her storage. No more shield for you, you fucking asshole.

  And then she clutched her head as the feeling in her head came roaring with satisfaction. Just what is this ?, she grumbled. The old man and Xaj don't have this problem, which means it's a me thing. And while Xaj's case is special, the old man shouldn't be.

  It's something I have, Zoemie thought while Rickard scrambled in panic for his shield, the feeling satisfied and amused at his panic. Something I have that he does not. Xaj had told her the scanning results of the old man, he was overall a well-banced mage.

  Zoemie tried to remember. What were my results on this thing, again ? She could've conjured a new scanner, but she didn't need to as the record popped into her head. Seems like Xaj gave me access... Right. It was greatswords, fists, and most categories of magic... so what am I missing ?

  I can do all types of magic, especially cosmic, also necrom... Zoemie stopped. Corpses are gross. She suddenly remembered saying that to herself, as if it was yesterday. Are you actually shitt... That's what's been going on ?

  Zoemie closed her eyes, channeling the strange magic. It felt wrong to her, like rot running through her veins, cold, slow and thick.When she opened them, she was in the abyss, surrounded by pitch bckness. They were here, she could feel them. Their malice and vengeful fury directed at Rickard.

  Zoemie's blood ran cold. Who are those people ? And what did he do to them ? She channeled her magic, recalling their spirits across the barrier, feeling her mana depleting as she did so. One. Two. Three.

  But what about the bandit and the archer ?, she asked herself. These had the same thing too ! A lingering feeling washed across her. That it had been already too te for those, to not hold it against herself. Zoemie felt her anxiety settle a bit.

  Zoemie screwed up the counting after nine, but she was sure there had been at least three more. When she opened her eyes again, Rickard was still on the ground, so she recounted the spirits around her.Fourteen. Her sweat was cold, her every hair raised.

  Zoemie watched, looking at the bastard currently getting back up. She brought down the walls, her mind free, and she resettled her grip on her weapon. Blunt mode. Zoemie charged, channeling the weight-increasing enchantment within her sword.

  He tried to dodge. He failed because of the accuracy bonus.

  He tried to parry. His sword shattered like it was made of flimsy iron.

  Zoemie's sword connected cleanly to Rickard's stomach, sending him flying and tumbling on the ground, losing the grip on his sword. She teleported his sword away and into the storage room as he tried to get away, using his hands to move himself backwards and trying to force himself upright.

  The spirits around Zoemie emitted a raspy cheer that seemed to unsettle Rickard, as she cursed him to pin him to the ground.