The Cleric emerged out of nothing. One moment he wasn’t there, the next the lines of his silhouette appeared, gradually getting filled like a paint by numbers picture. Without question it was very impressive, not to mention very magic related.
From what Dallion had been told, the magic stat was one of those believed to have been lost to humanity. Those born with it should have been treated as national treasures. To be in the presence of such a person, one couldn’t help to feel in awe. In Dallion’s case awe was mixed with relief, for beside the Cleric, Gloria had appeared as well and by the looks of it she wasn’t remotely hurt.
“I asked you a question.” The Cleric didn’t seem amused.
“We came to see what had happened with the scouting party.” Dallion kept his cool. “And to make weaken the chainling so Dame Vesuvia could kill it.”
The last created enough interest for the Cleric to remove his hood. Cold red eyes stared into Dallion’s making him feel like an ant under a magnifying glass on a hot summer day.
“You aren’t lying,” the albino cleric noted. “You’re also stupid.”
“Forgive me, but didn’t you come here for the same reason, Cleric?” Busted, Dallion grinned on the inside. To be honest, he didn’t expect for the albino to be here. If anything, his place was next to the Dame.
“What’s your plan?”
Dallion blinked. That was kind of sudden. In his mind he had imagined a long and complicated oral argument, with dozens of points and counterpoints. Then again, arguing on a battlefield close to a chainling wasn’t the best idea. Every moment here came at a risk… which begged the question, why hadn’t the cleric invited them to his awakening room.
Oh, crap! Dallion shivered at the realization. Out of all the possibilities, only one was likely—doing so would put them at an even greater risk. Now it became absolutely clear why Kalis had freaked out to such an extent when Dallion had linked his awakening room during their first training session—the chainling had the ability to enter the rooms of others, which meant it was an awakened beast as well.
“The chainling is still wounded,” Dallion began. “If it wasn’t it wouldn’t bother with long range attacks. It’s also fast enough to kill anything that’s close.” Or so the state of the caravan suggested. “However, it can’t focus on two things at once.”
The Cleric remained silent.
“I’m guessing it’s next to impossible to flank the creature.”
“Definitely impossible for you.”
“So, we don’t try. Instead, we charge straight at it.”
“Wha?” Veil gasped.
If stares could drill holes, Dallion would have been Swiss cheese by now. It wasn’t only the Cleric who was skeptical of his plan, Gloria was as well—Dallion could see her frown of disapproval, along with a hint of embarrassment that she was acquainted with him. Only Veil was giving the idea some actual thought, wondering whether he could pull it off or not.
“We don’t need to kill it, just wound it,” Dallion quickly added. “That would be enough for the Dame to finish it off.”
There was a long moment of silence only broken by the sound of another piece of burning wagon slamming a short distance away. Apparently, Dame Vesuvia had decided to shorten the distance to the monster.
“It’s now or never,” Dallion urged. Maybe it was because of the echoes, maybe it was part of this world’s society, but from what he had seen so far in this world, people rarely bluffed.
“How do we wound it?” The Cleric asked.
So far so good, Dallion thought. Now the complicated part begins.
“You can make us invisible, right?” Dallion turned to the Cleric.
“Don’t rely on that. The chainling doesn’t need eyes to see us coming.”
“That’s not to hide us. It’s to give us a bit more time. Veil, you’re good at throwing things, right?”
“Maybe?” the blond said, suspicious of the question. “When we get near, I want you to throw your sword at the chainling’s head. Aim for the eye. Can you manage that?”
“I can hit a target from a hundred feet,” Veil boasted. Remaining humble regardless of the circumstances remained alien to him.
“The chainling will easily deflect it,” Gloria crossed her arms. “Just like the practice guardian did in training.”
“I know.” Dallion smiled. “I’m counting on that. So, everyone ready to go?”
There were a few silent nods. A plan had come together—a very risky plan, but even if half the things of the chainling were true, that remained the best option Dallion could think of. That as well as the Dame taking it on her own. Either way, it was time to act.
“Follow me!” Dallion rushed forward.
The rest soon followed. Dallion could hear the steps of Veil and Gloria as they ran close behind him. The Cleric’s presence had vanished, as if he had deserted them. The semi-transparent quality that Dallion’s legs and arms had acquired, though, suggested that he was nearby.
The group reached the top of the hill, then continued down. Seconds later, Dallion got his first view of the chainling. All this time he had speculated as to the nature of the creature: large, small, scaly, bony, furry… Each whisper he’d heard added a new element, making it grow in size and ferocity. From experience, Dallion there was no way for all the rumors to be true. However, even he wasn’t prepared for the sight that emerged.
Standing next to a half-wrecked wagon, setting objects on fire and hurling them in the air was… something. There was no way to consciously describe it, as if the creature was nothing given silhouette form. It had an elongated body with several legs—the number changing each time Dallion tried to count—at least a dozen tails and a single eye the size and shape of a bowling ball.
When a creature’s leg came in contact with an object, the object instantly became part of it, then burst ablaze, moments before it was hurled in the distance. It was as if the creature was throwing parts of itself at the main force of the hunting party. Dallion’s stomach churned as he imagined what might happen if any part of the chainling came in contact with him. Maybe he was a bit overly optimistic about this.