Nom tried his Drill Attack on the Vampiric Fiend but since the creature was part shadow and incorporeal substance, he might as well have tried to attack a cloud. The necromantic minion had the annoying ability to resize and reshape its form, so it just evaporated to avoid Nom before reforming around him. It was trying to constrict him.
It got even more annoying when Nom felt the thing try to penetrate his skin with its tendrils. He could feel the suction on his layer of skin, the tip trying to needle its way in. The thing was trying to feed him on.
“Trying to feed on my life force?” Nom said. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Thin tendrils emerged out of slits on his form and flailed forth, making sure to be inside of the fiend’s form. Like roots trying to stick to the shadows. It had been a while since Nom had fed his Eldritch Void. He still hadn’t told Nay how he needed to feed to replenish his Void. So the last time he had been able to do it was when they were still in Lucerna’s End.
He had worried a little about not being able to find an opportunity, and the way they had been hunting and with all the abilities he was accumulating, his Eldritch Void reserves were tipping to the low side. As a being of the Void, there wasn’t much he couldn’t figure out how to Siphon off of.
The Vampiric Fiend included.
He felt the tips of his tendrils rattle as they began to collect and accumulate the life force of the fiend. It was called forth from some hidden place in the world by the necromancer’s Marrow Eater abilities, which meant vigor energy had been used to summon it and bind it to the will of its master. As far as its life force went, it was an undead thing held together by the volition of the necromancer. It had probably once been something alive and perhaps had a different form, and some of that still remained.
That was the portion Nom Siphoned off of, depleting it of the little life it had left to strengthen his Eldritch Void reserves. As he fed, he got impressions of the thing’s former life. Some demonic thing descended from the creations of a Marrow Eater who could forge flesh and birth monsters. It spent its life much in the same way it had spent its unlife, feeding on others.
He could hear the thing’s shrieks in his mind as he took away its core essence, or at least the remnants of it, making it his own. It tried to get away from him, but it couldn’t extricate itself from Nom’s tendrils and feelers.
It crashed to the chamber floor and Nom began to turn red, growing plump as his Eldritch Void reserve was filled.
“So,” Nom said, “this is what hurts you.”
The fiend grew weak, turning gray. Its red eyes, that once glowed as hot as embers, began to darken. Nom rose over its fading form, looking down at the dying minion. Its shadowy body blew away like ash on the wind, leaving behind two dull coals that clattered to the floor.
The fiend’s dead eyes rolled across the floor and stopped. Now as unidentifiable as the other pebbles and stones on the floor. “That’s right, bitch. You don’t eat me. I eat you!”
Nom, reinvigorated, headed back to where the main fight was happening, ready to aid Nay and his other friends.
#
Nay stared into Mishell’s one good eye, remembering the vow she made to herself after she had attained Iron Rank. Should Mishell come back into her life, she promised herself she’d be strong enough to face her.
Now here she was, still alive, but part something else. How was this possible? Nay knew there was a good chance she was still alive, especially after Nom had shared with her what he had seen, her father transporting her in the middle of the night, but what deal had they paid to save her life?
“You,” Mishell said, her voice low and raspy, warped from whatever trauma she had gone through that changed her very physiognomy, “You owe me an eye.”
She tilted her head, so Nay could see more of the eyeless socket.
“And you also owe me your life,” Mishell said, “for the brother you took from me. But I’m thinking I’ll be taking your eye first.”
Nay activated Shred. She let the vigor motion take over, her weapons striking at Mishell in a rapid six strikes. But she was surprised to discover she only racked up one Kinetic Point. Which meant only one of her attacks had hurt this new version of Mishell.
The half-maugrim had parried Thorn and ice scythe with the two maces that seemingly materialized in her hand. Her arms moved in a blur, keeping pace with Nay’s enhanced motion of Shred. The head of the maces blocked her blades and sparks flew, the reverberations running up her arms.
She did manage to slice Mishell along her upper arm, drawing a line of blood. The two separated, circling each other. The fishmonger’s daughter smiled, her maces in hand.
Nay recognized one of the weapons, the sight of it angering her.
She still bore the scar of that mace on the back of her hand. She would never forget that weapon. It was one of her first lessons that taught her she couldn’t coast through this world just being a chef. If not for Quincy and Lain, she might not have that hand anymore because of that mace.
As for the other mace, it was surrounded in a red weapon imbue and its design seemed diabolical in nature. The shaft looked as incorporeal as a dark fog. It seemed to be composed of the same matter that Mishell’s intangible bits were made of. It flickered in the same way, as if its form was being broadcast from the Nether Realm itself.
But the head looked like it was organic. A spiked crimson and violet flower that had a cluster of pinky fleshy tongues at its center. It looked like it was both hungry and poisonous.
Then a voice seemed to come from it, “Let us kiss the flesh of the worldtripper.”
Holy shit. It was a sentient weapon, borne from some terrible realm. The same realm that Mishell seemed to have allied herself with in exchange for life. Now it appeared as if she had been made some reforged assassin sent from this Nether Realm.
She came at Nay then, swinging at her with the steel mace first. Nay easily stepped back, dodging the swing. Then something strange happened, catching her oiff-guard.
Mishell twirled, coming out with a backhand with the strange mace. Nay ducked it and jabbed out with Thorn, but her foe twirled past her and disappeared into a Nether Portal.
Then less then a second later she felt a presence behind her. She tried to spin, but it was too late. Mishell reappeared, coming out of another Nether Portal, finishing her attack.
The red metal head of the mace bit into her armored shoulder. A warning blinked inside of her helm.
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[Warning! Armor Has Been Breached!]
[Absorption Still Holding]
The petals on the strange head had sprayed some type of corrosive fluid on her armor. She looked and saw it eating through her armor. One of the spiked petals elongated and pierced her skin. Then she pulled away, ripping herself away from the mace.
Nay side-stepped the next swing and created distance between her and Mishell.
She tested out her shoulder. She had a feeling that if she wasn’t both an Iron and armored, that blow would have shattered her shoulder and ruined her flesh. But even though she absorbed the hit, she could feel the bite of pain it left behind growing sharper. As a show of strength, she didn’t want to show how bad it hurt her. But she couldn’t hold in her grunt.
“You feel that don’t you?” Mishell said. “Fleshbane was a gift to me from my master. It was forged in the blacksmith pits of the Nether Realm. It inflicts more pain to those still bonded to the mortal plane.”
Nay grimaced and backed away, noting that she needed to stay away from that weapon. She activated Stealth just as Mishell came at her again. She rolled out of the way as the steel mace crashed into the ground.
Mishell made a clicking sound and scanned the area. “It seems like we both have new tricks up our sleeve. You can only hide for so long. And no more running away, not like last time.”
Nay circled around behind her, targeting a part of her torso that wasn’t made of the strange Nether vapor.
She de-stealthed and activated Shred again, jabbing Thorn into Mishell’s side six times, turning her into a pin-cushion. Nay whispered into her ear. “Who said anything about running?”
Mishell screamed and threw her elbow up, smashing Nay’s nose. Her vision went red.
#
Ilyawraith was able to go minutes without breathing fresh air. She cycled the oxygen she had, using her spirit veins to replenish her lungs with vigor. It was a bio-trick she had mastered that was a part of advancing to Silver Rank. Trapping herself in the ice was a protection tactic to buy her time. As such, the chain wrapped around her neck that cut off her airway was possible to survive.
She watched Gideon on the other side of the ice layers, frantically trying to chip his way through before her allies overwhelmed him. Her plan was to let him get through the first few layers of ice armor then she would activate her Ice Nova, freezing him. She just needed the extra seconds to cycle enough vigor to properly utilize the technique.
But it looked like help was arriving early because she heard a battle-cry so strong it reverberated through her ice armor. Then Fluxwell the maugrim appeared between her and Gideon. She felt the pair of chains around her arm and neck go slack as the battle-crazed maugrim severed them with the blades of his gauntlet.
There was a whirl of steam and vigor energy as the maugrim’s rocket mace spun, pulverizing Gideon’s breastplate and shattering the skeletal arms holding the kusarigamas on one of their many artificer-propelled rotations. “The necromantic arts.” Fluxwell spat. “Bone fucking is what I call it. Which means you’re a bone fucker!”
An arrow streaked over Fluxwell’s head, slipping through Gideon’s defenses and pierced through his armor at the joints between his lower and upper arms, hitting his elbow.
Gideon grunted in pain and his eyes flickered over to Bianca, who was just rising from the ground. Panic appeared on his face for the first time. He saw Tuk-Tuk nocking back another arrow.
As Fluxwell came at him with the rocket mace, the head of the weapon taking out chunks of the earthen wall next to them, Gideon made a fist and more bones spun into the air around him. It was a fresh summon of bone armor. The femurs and ribs spun around him, absorbing blows from the bone mace.
Another arrow appeared but it was flung to the side as the spinning bones sent it flying.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Gideon said. “But you’re leaving me no choice.”
“It’s just as well,” Fluxwell said, gritting his teeth and pressing forward, trying to batter his way through the spinning bones. “I don’t conspire with bone fuckers.”
And with that, a giant skeletal hand burst from the ground, the hands closing around the maugrim. It kept growing, a hand emerging and shooting upwards. It slammed Fluxwell against the top of the bone dome and then threw the maugrim as hard as it could.
The armored maugrim hit the ground in an explosion of bones and tree root chips, disappearing out of sight.
Ilyawraith activated her Ice Nova ability. The outer layers of ice armor exploded and she directed all of the ice at Gideon. The nova blast destroyed his rotating bone armor shield and lifted him into the air, slamming him against a wall.
He was coated in frost. He tried to move but he was severely slowed.
Quincy, healed by Lain, got up right as Bianca went airborne, the top of her umbrella spinning and lifting her in the air. She flew towards her master. Titian sparks of healing spun off the umbrella top and healed the necromancer.
The Lodge owner loaded another bolt into Samuel. He took aim and fired. The bolt hit the umbrella. There was a burst of vigor energy and the dark healer fell out of the air. She hit the ground in a roll, and came up and directed vapors of healing at Gideon.
He joined Ilyawraith and he and his Silver Ranked friend leapt, closing the distance between them and the necromancer and his healer. Quincy landed and loaded another bolt.
But then the whole chamber shook.
There was a roar and The Bjorbane slid between both parties. The Skull Golem landed on top of him, sending a shower of bones and debris everywhere. As the two behemoths fought, Quincy squinted as the dust in the area settled.
Gideon and Bianca were gone.
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