Chapter 23: 21-Gathering Storm (III)

Though there were objectively not that many people in the building, their terrified shrills were almost deafening. Normally, I feel a bit of contempt towards people who react like that to danger, but not this time. I’ll admit I found myself somewhat scared too.

Even as Lina forcibly yanked me and Firena away, I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the corpse. But, it wasn’t really the murder itself that surprised me. Instead, what almost made me freeze in place were the weird emanations said corpse was giving off.

While the murderer stood over it without moving, like a particularly ironic commemorative statue, something akin to puffs of smoke with shining golden specks came out of the body’s chest and head. The fumes were controlled by an unnatural hand, flowing with purpose from the murdereed to the murderer’s slightly parted lips, sparks of sunlight quickly darkening throughout their brief journey.

Observing the phenomenon made my skin crawl, for some reason. It just felt wrong, in a fundamental way. Like watching maggots come out of a festering wound. Only, cranked up to eleven. As if whatever it was that was taking place had actually never been meant to be, AND no one ever was supposed to see it, regardless...

Despite the distinct feeling that the obvious profanation wasn’t meant for eyes as mundane as mine, though, some sort of morbid curiosity demanded that I kept looking. As far as that part of me was concerned, the barely perceptible, ethereal will that seemed to be offended by my voyeurism could go fuck itself.

Or do something about it.

Thankfully, nothing rose to my mental provocation.

Instead, the ectoplasm just kept silently flowing... For a few heartbeats. Then, it came to a sudden stop. The girls and I had barely reached the building’s gate by the time the last denatured spark vanished into the murderer’s lips.

As soon as it did, several things happened at once.

First, the corpse shook, before exploding into motion. An instant later, the thing was on all fours, letting out a bone-chilling screech. More beast than woman, it charged at the crowd. Thankfully, away from us.

At the same time, though, the killer finally moved. Her arms jerked closer to her body, then, equally as rigidly, her head tilted in our direction. Despite their lack of visual cues, I could almost physically feel when her now anthracite, white-less eyes settled on me. Then, bloodied knife first, the creature charged too. Need it be said? Unfortunately, definitely not away from us.

I’d been internally debating whether to interfere or not, rather reluctant to have my hand even partially exposed to Lina and the villagers. After all, despite magic being in the play, I was still not even five. There was only so much that could be explained away by me being “Grisella’s apprentice”.

The decision seemed to have been taken from my hands, though. In all honesty, I didn’t particularly mind sacrificing a few random villagers for my self-protection -well, not by inaction anyway-, but Lina and Firena? That was another story altogether.

After all, perhaps I am biased, perhaps it’s not wise, but I still feel some degree of kinship with most adoptive families of mine...

Thus, even as the villager-turned-freak-monster took its first step, I slipped away from Lina’s death grip. Not a particularly challenging task, really; her fingers were slick with nervous sweat, and I was strong. The distraught mother immediately turned around, sheer despair written all over her face, even as a dismayed cry left her lips. I could only temporarily ignore her, however. If someone didn’t do anything about it, there was simply no way she’d be able to outrun the thing coming after us. And, incidentally, I seemed to be the only one around that wasn’t too preoccupied being useless and panicky.

That being said, there was probably no time left to chant my Skill. Plus, I didn’t really want to use it either, not if wasn’t absolutely forced to.

Thankfully, I had other tools. Namely, a cape, the short dagger Grisella had gifted me, and, ever since I had connected with my first Node, about as much physical strength as a teenager. The latter of which could even still be further enhanced by an -ever painful- application of Pneuma.

Well, I also happened to have at least one and a half lifetimes spent polishing my Destreza, both Verdadera and Vulgar.

Despite the general chaos, poor lighting, and its uncanny speed, my eyes were able to track the abomination with ease. Just like my former foe, the mighty jackalope-zombie, may it not rest in peace, the new creature’s movements were somehow extremely swift, yet also pretty ungainly.

Unlike that time with the damned rodent, however, I wasn’t caught off guard. Even as I quickly severed the straps attaching my cape to my neck, I calmly considered the ever-reducing distance and narrowing angles between the monster’s body and mine. When the Abominable Old Lady lunged down to stab me, she found me ready.

As soon as she came into my range, when the cold, gleaming point of her knife was rapidly approaching my face, I fluttered the now-freed cape in front of me. In the same movement, I let go of the cloth, violently throwing it at the creature’s face, and took a quick step to the side.

The execution was close to perfect. The blade harmlessly zipped by my head, missing its target by more than a handspan. Thankfully, it seemed like the undead abomination still relied on its eyes to see.

My own dagger wasn’t quite as forgiving as the creature’s, though.

Thrown off balance by its missed thrust, the graceless monster couldn’t help overextending, allowing me to slip into its back. Imbuing my limbs with powerful Pneuma, I crouched down, going for a low blow. Since I was comparatively small, aiming for the head would have been a mistake. True, it was supposedly the only reliable way to bring an end to the undead. But, doing so would have required me to jump high into the air, which would have left me way too open to retaliation. Instead, I had aimed for the back of her ankles.

My hand flashed forward, almost too fast for the eye to follow. An instant later, iron successfully met flesh.

Weapon in hand, I was intensely aware as skin gave way to tendon, then bone. Much to my surprise, though, the blade just kept going. What ought to be solid bone seemingly proving barely tougher than butter. In the blink of an eye, my dagger claimed the undead’s entire foot.

Forced by much more residual momentum than I had anticipated I would have left, I fell into a tumble. Immediately flexing my legs, I quickly pushed the pirouette to carry me as far away from my enemy as it could.

It turned out I needn’t have bothered, though.

The abomination had fallen too and, on its sole remaining foot, it wasn’t quite as nimble as I was on both of mine.

Not one to miss the opportunity, I lunged at it.

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Instead of coming from the front, though, I circled around the stumbling monster. My weapon was simply too short. As were my arms. The monster, on the other hand, still had its own blade, and a far longer range. Even with a lame leg, without the factor of surprise, any direct confrontation would likely turn in its favor.

I feinted forward, a couple of times, testing the waters.

The creature tried to stab or get ahold of me, but could only find empty air. Its now imbalanced body simply couldn’t keep up with mine. My feet never stopped moving. Seamlessly, they carried me in ever-shifting directions as I quested for an opening.

A few breaths later, I finally managed to find one.

Yet again, the monster had committed too deeply with a maladroit grab. I was able to slip past its reaching hand. Once more, Pneuma rushed to obey my will, suffusing my calves, thighs, and core with burning, explosive might. The thrust that followed was closer to the ferocious pouncing of a jaguar than a human’s.

I held the knife with both hands, trying to make my hold on it as rigid as possible. Though arcanely enhanced, I feared my body might simply have lacked the weight for a proper stab. After all, I needed to force my short blade past the creature’s skull, something that wouldn’t have been easy to pull off even for an adult male.

An instant later, however, my fears were proven pointless.

Not only did the dagger easily puncture the bone. Somehow, for whatever reason, with a sickening rip, the creature’s entire head detached from its body. As soon as I realized what was happening, a part of me couldn’t help but imagine that someone, somewhere, perhaps a bored god, was smirking to itself while thinking ‘haha, physics go brrr!’.

 

Congratulations! By plundering the Essence of your fallen foes, you have improved your own standing.

 

A second later, though, with feet back on the ground, I looked down at my hands, only to find that I was holding onto the most revolting skewer ever. A frozen snarl, empty, fully black eyes, and quite a bit of gore.

“Holy fuck!”

I almost let go of my weapon, out of sheer disgust. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that the Abominable Old Lady hadn’t been the only monster in the room.

Since the cat’s already out of the bag, might as well...

Giving the knife a good shake to try and dislodge its very unwelcome passenger -no way in hell I was going to touch that crap with my hands!-, I raised my eyes, looking for the second undead.

I didn’t take long to find it.

It had been run through with a sword.

Apparently, a timely hero had come into the building while I was fighting. Incidentally, the swordsman in question was someone rather familiar. And, I don’t mean to brag, but Munok was giving me quite the interesting look. As pretty much everyone else still left in the room seemed to be doing, really.

“Abry?”

Well, fu-

Suddenly, blaring trumpets interrupted my thoughts.

 

Warning! The Realm of Zabal is under Siege! All Major Entities are hereby barred from Traveling to and from Zabal until the Conflict is Resolved.

 

Instead of trying to explain myself to a bewildered father, I found I couldn’t peel my eyes away from the runes.

Yeah... that definitely sounds like a fucking fuckton of fucks...

 

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