Dante didn’t know what to do. His feet brought him ever closer to the portal and he was numb.
Then he was there. No one in front of him. Nothing between him and the portal.
He caught sight of his face on its reflective surface. His skin had grown as pale as the white of his eyes, and his pupils had dilated so much that they bordered on his sclera. Dante continued forward, his foot on an inexorable collision course with the aberration of space-time before it.
He made contact.
It was like his foot had been tied to a dropped anchor. He was yanked through with an unstoppable force. His view of the world narrowed to a pinprick and the pulling never ceased, accelerating him at speeds that should have killed him. Then, he was out.
Dante stumbled forward and something caught him. Pauwna. She supported him and kept them walking forward so the ranks behind him wouldn’t trample him. Remnants of last night''s dinner tried to force their way up, but he suppressed them.
“You did good. Most can’t move after their first roanoff. Have you done it before?”
“... Something similar. Thanks for the help. I am good now.”
He smiled and stopped using her as a crutch. She returned the smile and then hastened to the front of the formation. Now that he had found his step, he took the opportunity to get his bearings.
Not that there was much to see. A heavy dust lay over everything. Including his companions, much to their annoyance. Not on him, however. [Overloaded Warding Flesh] kept a small pocket clear around his form.
He tripped and looked down to see rubble. Stones littered the ground, raw, jagged, and varying in size from house to pebble. An eerie quiet lay over everything. Even the slap of their boots against the ground was faint.
Just where are we?
The mist stirred and he spun in that direction, crossbow half raised and finger on the trigger. It was another squad, half obscured by the dust. They were moving at tremendous speed and he only caught sight of them for a second. He was able to see their leader fix him with a disapproving look. He lowered the crossbow sheepishly.
They are so much faster than us. Wait, are we…
Dante gazed at his companions and saw that they looked more stone-faced than normal. He caught the tail end of a sullen look from Ren. They were moving at a speed that was wholly at odds with how fast they scanned their surroundings. Almost as if they were held back by something.
By me. They can’t move fast enough because I am here. They are at risk because of me. No wonder Ren resents me. I would too.
Dante picked up his speed to a jog and others kept up effortlessly. Their expressions did not change. Why would they when they were still moving within mortal speeds.
I wish it wasn''t like this. It’s not like I chose to be here. It’s not my fault that I am useless.
The ground was no longer level, it was getting steeper fast. Soon, they were climbing. If it weren’t for the cracked nature of the stone around him, it would have been impossible. It just was very hard now. Grips gave away at unexpected times and sharp edges meant that he had to choose where to place his hands carefully.
Once, he had just put his full weight on a large rock when it shifted and plunged into the void beneath them. Dante would have fallen then had Pauwna not grabbed his collar until he found another grip. From that point on, he didn''t trust any handhold alone. This was when he saw the first body.
He was reaching for a small ledge when his fingers closed on something faintly warm, slick, and bumpy. Pulling himself up, Dante nearly lost his grip when he saw that his handhold was a voilet, scaly arm. The owner of which was buried deep in the rubble. He was assaulted by a vision of it springing to life and clawing for him. He reached for the next grip with haste and did his best to put it out of his mind.
Soon, he pulled himself over the top with a huff. The terrain here was different from down … wherever that was. He was resting on dirt for one, which was a plus. Though it was a singed black color and was pitted with small craters. Barely within sight was a carbonized tree. It reminded him of when he had first arrived in this world. In the no-man''s land.
That’s precisely where we are, aren’t we? Shit. Can’t say I am happy to be back here. Although I don’t remember seeing anything as deep as what we came out of.
Unsurprisingly, the rest of the squad had been waiting for him. Ren was even tapping her foot impatiently. The instant he had climbed up, Sūnva led them into the gloom. They hugged the depression’s edge and Dante soon realized that the hole must be circular. It must have been titanic, The curvature was slight and, despite the dust having cleared substantially, the other side was not visible. They soon came across a familiar sight.
A trench.
It was the third and last line, if his memory wasn’t failing him. He had been here only once before. It was hard to forget the subterranean warren of rooms and tunnels. The hole bisected it, revealing the true extent of the structure. It was many levels deep, only terminating a few hundred feet down. It was essentially a small city. This close to the hole, most of it had collapsed. He could see relatively whole rooms in the distance.
The Ahsmati corpses were especially thick here. Arms and legs stuck from the rubble, often bent at unnatural angles. The ones that weren’t buried were almost worse to look at, resembling broken bags of flesh more than anything. Burns were omnipresent in each of the bodies. Curiously, they always faced the direction of the pit. The smell of blood and worse hung thick in the air.
They picked their way through the rubble, checking every room that hadn''t collapsed. It was treacherous and slow going, the ground shifted easily at the slightest touch. For once, Dante’s pace wasn’t the thing holding them back as they methodically checked every room for life. As they ventured farther from the pit, visibility further improved and they began finding uncollapsed rooms. The tide of bodies did not cease however; they merely bore different wounds. These ones looked whole, but blood streamed from their eyes, ears, and from the corners of their mouths. With this, Dante finally pieced together what happened.
The large hole, the sharp edges of the rubble, the considerable warmth of the bodies, and the scorch wounds. This was an explosion. A catastrophic one. I can’t even begin to imagine the energy it would take to create a crate that deep. And we climbed from the bottom of it. Did the teleportation cause this? Or was there a trap? A bombardment? I hate not knowing.
He was jogged from his thoughts by a clatter and a small dog-like creature with limp back legs staggered out of one of the partially filled rooms. Before Dante had even registered the Ahsmati as an enemy, it had already been struck by a thin beam of light that swept it from shoulder to hip. It froze for a second, and then the two halves fell to the ground, organs spilling out. Dante looked to his left to see Ren with a finger still extended.
No wonder that merchant said I should upgrade my firepower. I didn’t even get a notification for that. And why should I? It’s not like I did anything to help. I am so useless here.
The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Pauwna gestured and a piddling amount of blood separated from the body and flew over to hover above her palm. A cursory check of the room that the Ahsmati came revealed no more life, so they continued. Dante inspected the body as they passed by.
While his initial impression had been that of a large dog, it was more cat-like in appearance. It had a graceful, sinewy body with a long tail topped by a vicious blade. It was hard to tell past the layer of grime, but it had tiny, mud brown scales that were similar to a snake''s. It was nothing like the previous Ahsmati he had seen, save for all of them being lizard-like.
What is up with that anyway? I have personally fought three types and have seen more. Are they all different species? I can’t imagine that there can be that many sentient lizard-like species in one world. However, Sūnva said that they were created, so perhaps this was by design?
He would have asked, but now wasn’t the time for distractions. They continued on, more alert than before. Caution that only raised when they stopped discovering bodies. They were too far away from the blast for the shockwave to kill, he reckoned.
“Stop. Pauwna, do you hear that?”
The group halted, tightening together and raising their weapons. Pauwna swiveled on the spot, then cupped her ears and closed her eyes. A few uncomfortable moments passed in which everyone did their best to be quiet. Now that it had been pointed out, Dante realized that he could also hear distant cries, explosions, and other strange sounds he associated with magic. Whip-like cracks, melodious shrieks, and unearthly howling. The usual ambience of the trenches.
“Hmm, I hear ...” Pauwna still had her eyes closed and her unusually long ears periodically twitched, “an ongoing battle about four hundred spans ahead, numbering about a dozen combatants. I am less certain about this, but the Ahsmati appear to be winning.”
“Acknowledged.” Sūnva paused for a moment, then seemed to come to some sort of decision. “Prepare for battle, with haste!”
With that, the unit blurred into motion. In a manner of seconds, they disappeared around a bend while Dante could only watch, flabbergasted. Hurt followed quickly behind, but he suppressed it with a flash of irritation at himself.
Of course they left me behind. They need to go help their comrades and I can’t help them with that. Only slow them down.
Dante jogged after them. Afterall, what else could he do? Stay alone on a battlefield where just about everything was stronger then him? He just hoped that there were no branching pathways. That would complicate things.
Three hundred paces couldn’t be that far. Could it?
He moved after them as fast as he was able. He could hear it now. The clashing of steel on steel and the occasional shouted spell. He was just about to turn the corner when a scaly snout emerged from behind it. It was an Ahsmati, of the type he and Pauwna fought together.
Dante backpedaled. The crossbow came up and then he hesitated. This was his first time alone with one of the creatures. He had to see if he could reason with it.
“Stop or I will shoot!” he shouted, keeping the weapon trained on it. He was not confident in its ability to stop the Ahsmati, the previous one he had fought certainly hadn’t. Dante was hoping that this one didn’t know that.
To his great relief, it did stop. It cocked its head so that one bloodshot eye was trained on him. A head that was nearly the size of his torso. He realized that it was injured. Three vicious lacerations ran from the top of its shoulder and wrapped around to its back, so he wasn’t able to gauge the severity of the injuries. A small thread of blood flowed from each and floated around the corner to parts unseen. Likely Pauwna’s work. He could still hear signs of battle from that direction.
“Why stop to talk, man-thing? A ploy to wait for my blood to run dry?”
Dante flinched, nearly pulling the trigger as it spoke. He was glad that it could speak, but the way it spoke set him on edge. The speech was decidedly odd, full of odd pauses, sybilent hisses, and mispronunciations. It seemed like its hard lips and terrifying teeth made certain sounds difficult.
Why had he stopped to talk? Honestly, he hadn’t expected to get this far. It wasn''t as if he could take it prisoner. But he could let it go … where it would certainly hurt other soldiers. There was one thing it could help him with.
“Why are we fighting?”
Dante immediately cringed. The question sounded so naive, so he hastened to add: “I am a foreigner, this is not my war.”
An extended, rhythmic hissing sound had him putting his guard back up. It caused his hairs to stand on end, but the Ahsmati made no hostile moves. He realized the creature was laughing.
“Why do we fight? Why not fight? Your kind takes. Foreigner or not. It takes and takes and takes until we are bled dry. Enough. We take now. We fight, tear, rip, until the price is paid.”
With that, it lunged at him. It was fast, but he had faced faster. A slight tightening of his finger on the trigger along with a pulsing of [Overloaded Warding Flesh] and the heavy crossbow bucked. The bolt flew true, striking center mass. Metal shrieked, sparks scattered, and the bolt deflected.
Shit.
He reached for his bag and fumbled out the box of enchanted bolts. The box crashed to the ground, spilling its precious contents far and wide. The Ahsmati loomed above him, having easily two feet on him and likely was thrice his weight. It had its arms splayed to either side, ready to catch him if he dodged. If it got a hold of him, that was the end.
Dante took the only way out, dropping the crossbow and diving between its legs. He didn’t quite slide as far as he liked and was stuck underneath it. Dante didn’t see any obvious … equipment, but he still delivered a viscous kick upward, right between its legs. It was as if he had kicked a stone statue. Pain flared up his shin and he cried out.
The Ahamati, by comparison, looked entirely unaffected, though unhappy. One clawed foot came down. The world spun as he rolled out of the way, but he wasn’t quite fast enough. It was going to hit. A mere inch away from his skin, the talons slowed slightly. It gave him enough time that he was just about able to complete his roll. There was a pulling sensation at his arm, then he was free. One of the bolts was right in front of him. The blue one. He grabbed it and scrambled forward.
It was not fast enough. Something clamped around his chest. Metal squealed terribly as tooth scraped against steel. There was a moment of weightlessness as he was lifted off the ground. Gazing down, he found that the Ahsmati had bitten him from behind. Its jaws were clamped around his midsection and was currently caving in his breastplate. Dante grabbed for Svōl’s knife at his belt and stabbed at its face. The knife deflected. He stabbed again and again, aiming for the eye. The knife missed as his entire world was upturned. He was being shaken like a rat in the jaws of a dog. Breathing became. Metal groaned and gave way. Changing tack, he brought the knife to the breastplate straps. The first one gave away and he moved to the next.
He had just touched the knife to leather when it gave away. Then he was flying through the air. Dante managed to hit the ground in a roll and skidded before coming to a stop against a wall. Ignoring the scream of his lungs and the sting of bruises all over, he climbed to his feet.
Dante had been thrown quite far, but the Ahsmati had turned and was charging straight at him. It was lower to the ground now to cut off any further dodging attempts. All he had was the enchanted crossbow bolt in one hand and the tiny boot knife in the other. It was time to take a chance.
He dropped the knife and cupped the crossbow bolt with both hands. It strained against his fingers, ready to be released. Then, he aimed it at the creature and used [Aura Manipulation] to increase the reach of [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. He wished that his charge was off cooldown.
“Please work,” he whispered to whatever may be listening, then let go.
The bolt lept from his hands, crossing the few feet between himself and the Ahsmati in a fraction of a second. Then, a flash of light and then liquid fire was everywhere. It engulfed the Ahsmati and droplets of it pinged off his repulsion field. It was more intense than regular fire, appearing more like thermite.
It was a nightmare straight from his worst dreams. It took a supreme effort of will not to flee at that very second. But he had to make sure the Ahsmati was dead.
Dante was now standing in an isolated island in a sea of flames. In that moment, he was incredibly thankful for [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. He promised never to complain about it again.
The sound the Ahsmati made would mark the start of a new nightmare, he was certain. A shriek reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard came from the heart of the flames. It awakened some primal fear inside of him, reminding Dante of his own baptism of flames. He had personally experienced what the Ahsmati was suffering through now.
A wave of sympathy swept through him. No creature deserved to die like this. Not even one who tried to kill him for simply being human. Dante walked over to where his crossbow had been dropped, the flames parting before him, and loaded a normal bolt into it. He lined up a shot with the Ahsmati''s eye, which had been permanently seared open. It didn’t even seem to notice that he was there and continued to convulse on the floor.
He pulled the trigger.
Level 13 [Adolscent Ahsmati] has been slain
Your participation: 43%
Calculating Experience …
Congratulations! You have advanced to Level 5
Classes are available
[Crossbow] has advanced to Level 4
[Aura Manipulation] has advanced to Level 2
[Overloaded Warding Flesh] has advanced to Level 8