Chapter 48: 48. Battlefield Modifications

Dame Vesuvia charged forward. A large group of soldiers followed, running on foot. What little remained of the volunteers was long forgotten. Neither as disciplined nor as prepared as the main force, they had suffered the greatest number of wounds and casualties.

This was going to be the final confrontation. The chainling realized it as well, for it spun around gathering as much of the wagon remains as it could and throwing them all at the incoming group like an artillery barrage.

Looking at it from a distance, Dallion was able to appreciate not having to be the one leading the charge. He was also relieved at the ease with which the Dame pierced through the wall of flame. There was nothing flashy he could see, no glowing lights, or materializing shields… the woman just passed through as if walking through a sheet of paper.

“Veil, can you hit it?” Dallion asked. Even if the chainling wasn’t looking in their direction, Dallion had gotten far closer to it than he would have liked.

“A bit more.”

That wasn’t the answer Dallion was hoping for. They were still about a hundred feet away. According to his theories, the chainling was unlikely to pay attention to them until it had dealt with its greater threat. The concern was that their involvement could quickly change its mind.

“When Veil throws the sword, grab my hand,” Dallion shouted. “You too Cleric.”

“Why? What are you thinking?” Gloria asked.

“Later. When I tell you, I want you to aim for its throat. Don’t shoot until I say so.”

“Okay, but why—”

“Do you have your dartbow?”

“Yes, I have it, but what—”

Before Gloria could finish a loud pop filled the air. It was just like the pop of the balloon—sudden, sharp, though not overly loud; it was also accompanied by a radical change in the chainling’s appearance. Spikes appeared all over its smooth silhouette piercing it off, like a porcupine shedding the skin of a snake. The new form was larger than before, darker, sleeker, covered by what could be described as an external skeleton of metallic bones.

Oh, damn! Dallion didn’t need to be versed in local biology to know exactly what had happened, he had done the exact same in the last week. The creature had increased its awakening level, and that was bad for everyone involved.

“Veil, do it now!”

“I can’t be precise from this distance.”

“You don’t have to be precise! Just aim for the head!”

With a grunt, Veil leapt into the air. Letting go of his dartbow, he grabbed the sword with both hands and spun it around mid-flight, as if it were a throwing hammer. Two revolutions later, he let it go.

As the sword made its way towards the chainling, Dallion held his breath. The moment of truth had come.

“Cleric, stop the invisibility!” Dallion shouted. “Gloria, aim!”

The girl’s arm appeared out of nothingness, holding a dartbow. With perfect precision, Dallion put his hand on top so his pinkie finger barely touched the bolt, while still holding his own weapon.

“Everyone, grab hold!” Dallion extended his free hand.

In normal circumstances no one would have obeyed his command. The play was reckless to the point that even a five-year-old would notice. After running for about a minute, pumped up on adrenalin, though, instinct proved stronger than logic. Dallion felt two sets of fingers grab on, touching the flesh of his hand. To his surprise, a third hand grabbed hold of his neck. Someone was aware of his plan and was going ahead with it.

I hope I’m not wrong.

At that point the sword hit. There wasn’t any blood or anything spectacular. The tip of the blade struck the side of the chainling’s new skull, cracking the bone, just before bouncing off. The creature semi-stumbled, pushed back to the side by the force of the blow, but quickly regained its footing. The head with the large single eye turned around to take a good look at its attacker.

Got you. Dallion smiled.

“Shoot!” he shouted.

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The instant he felt that the bolt was released, Dallion did what he had planned all along.

Item awakening

 

Everything disappeared. Dallion found himself in a rather large hall. Gloria, Veil, and the Cleric were all there. Thankfully, the chainling wasn’t.

The BOLT is Level 15

 

What the heck?! What exactly had gone into the creation of this bolt? Dallion could barely improve an item up to level five, and that was only if he started from utter junk.

 

You are in a large metal hall.

Defeat the guardian to change the BOLT’s destiny!

“This was your plan?” Gloria all but shouted. “Getting us here so we could improve the bolt?!”

“Pretty much.” Dallion grinned. Something suggested that Gloria wasn’t taking this all too well. Actually, the only reason she wasn’t outright furious was that she was still trying to wrap her mind round the idea of it all.

“Have you any idea what it takes to improve sky silver?”

“No, but I’m about to…” This was the first time he had heard the term.

“Sky silver is one of the most stable elements there are! Why do you think weapons are made of it? If it was normal metal, anyone could turn the weapon to rust the moment it touches their skin.”

“Oh.” That actually was a pretty neat trick. Dallion had to remember it for later. Not that he had the skills to modify metal yet.

“Did you seriously think this through?!” Gloria crossed her arms. Her face was red with anger.

You look cute when you’re angry. “Yes, actually. I suspected that the bolts had to be solid enough so they’d take down the creature we’re hunting.”

Gloria frowned, refusing to acknowledge his logic.

“That’s why we won’t be improving the bolt. We’ll just modify it.”

“Modify?” Veil arched a brow. “Isn’t that the same as improving?”

“Is mending the same as improving?” Dallion smiled.

The question made both Veil and Gloria hmm, though only Veil made the sound out loud.

“If we can mend things of a greater level, we can also damage them to some extent?” Dallion turned to the cleric. “Also, the bolts aren’t made of sky silver, only the tips are. The rest is common metal. That’s what we’ll be changing.”

“You want to modify the metal shaft of a bolt?” For the first time there was a softer tone in the Cleric’s voice. Dallion could tell he was intrigued by the idea, possibly eager even.

“Precisely! And you’re going to help.”

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