Luke Everhart
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Chapter 301 - Out Of Reach
🕑 Added 2025-07-23 10:31:01 +0000 UTCMul glanced up at the blinding light that shone from atop the rocky formation… And he blinked. And missed it.
In one moment, five loentu were scrambling up the rock ledge, to get at the ranged that rained death and destruction from above with impunity, the next, a distorted growl had deafened the battlefield in that moment of blindness in between blinking, and he was opened his eyes again, five loentu were in halves.
Their sliced flesh, bone and organs glowed with the power of Nar’s [Lingering Aura], the heat of that energy being such that not even blood splattered the rocks. And with meaty thuds, the beasts dropped back to the mud. Dead, and the tree line behind them blew up in roaring flames of aura which lit up the entire battlefield.
Fucking Crystal. Those were fucking uncommon for fuck’s sake, Mul thought. And that thing is still a damned work in progress.
He shook his head. Too fast. Too far…
The beast in his grip whimpered pitifully, and he put an end to it with a flaming punch. Another one leaped at him almost immediately, no doubt thrown his way by one of Gad’s aggro streams, and he bent low under the beast’s furious swipes.
She’s getting better and better, he thought, as he delivered a powerful uppercut to the beast's jaw. We all are, but… Not like him.
The loentu growled at him, grinding his teeth, and shook his head to clear off the daze. His chin was stained black from kissing Mul’s raging fist, but other than that, there were no signs of any proper injury.
I’ve got to do better, Mul thought, lowering into stance once more. Come on then. I don’t have all day. If you can even call this fucking shit day…
The beast was only happy to oblige and it pounced on him. Mul mirrored it, and stepped forward, ready to punch the beast again, but the damned thing avoided him with an agile mid-flight contortion of his tail and torso.
Growling, Mul chased after it, but the loentu kept firmly out of his reach… And the edges of Mul’s sight began to turn red.
Keep calm, keep calm, he told himself, inhaling deeply through his nose. It’s dancing a little… No reason to be angry, uh? Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts…
And suddenly he was spinning in place, and he almost went down.
Clenching his jaw so hard it hurt, he looked behind him to find that another of the beasts had shot him from afar, and the two creatures yipped and snarled at him, clearly ready to work in unison.
Well, aren’t you two smart? He thought, as his sight went redder still.
The beast he had originally been chasing after leaped forward, and though he moved out of the way, he still felt the sting of three claws scoring a hit. One of them even pierced through his useless aura armor to lick at his fiery blood, and the loentu yelped as sudden flames erupted up his paw, and Mul grinned darkly as [Burning] triggered.
That’s what happens when you play with fire!
He jumped forward, taking advantage of the beast’s distraction, and pummeled it with a fist engulfed in raging, wrathful flames. The creature cried out in pain, and sought to run away, but Mul reached for its paw and grabbed.
100 points in [Strength]. That beast was going nowhere.
With an evil cackle, Mul lifted his foe clear of the floor and swung it around with all his might.
And with that constant contact, the flames quickly engulfed the screaming loentu, and Mul released it to go crash and burn to death amidst his pack.
The loentu that had shot him from afar seemed to catch on to the message, and it ran away in search of easier prey.
That’s what I thought. Ouch.
The spike, still embedded in his shoulder, was now charred black, and cracks were starting to form across its length. Snarling, Mul reached up for it and ripped it clear of his flesh, not bothered by whatever damage that serrated tip might cause on its way out. In that moment, another beast made the mistake of attacking him, and Mul threw the spike at it, startling the creature.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Mul rammed into the beast, and the two of them met in a snarling match of fists and claws. The creature tried to use its bigger size to overpower him, and get his deadly jaw locked in around his shoulder, but the brawler denied it again and again, raining fist after explosive fist against its side.
Die, damn it! Die! He shouted in his mind. How much fucking HP do you have?
The beast screamed before the onslaught, and Mul took hold of its face. With all those punches, the creature’s HP was gone, and he closed his fingers, crunching through skin, flesh and blood.
Ignoring its vain attempt at running from Mul’s dead grasp, he raised the beast above his head and slammed it on the mud. Then, he crushed its skull with a kick, his breath coming out as a searing billow of steam.
Mul kicked the dead thing away with a grunt, a distant part of him calling out to tell him it was important to keep his surroundings clear, but before he could look for another foe, he swayed in place, and dropped to one knee.
He was burning.
It was so hot.
Consuming.
Taking…
He punched the ground, and his flames sizzled against the muddy mess the floor jungle floor had become.
Happy thoughts… Food… Sleep… Wolfie… Party…
He breathed in and out, and inch, by languorous inch, the redness started to recede back to the corners of his sight. A weariness filled him, but it was not one caused by his [Heart of Loss]... That constant battle with himself, to stay himself, it drained him.
“Are you okay?”
He waved at Viy, not looking up. “I’m fine. Just catching my breath!”
“I’ll cover you!” the halberdier shouted. “Take as long as you need!”
“... thank you.”
Mul glanced sideways, and witness Viy’s fight.
As always, she was awe strikingly terrifying in her savage dance, and lately, more and more, he noticed that her weapon left traces of deep blue and purple aura behind it, the color of her affinity to weight. Those lines were getting thicker and thicker, and more and more solid, especially after she had gained her new skill, [Reckless Abandon].
As he watched her, one of the loentu pawed at one of those lines, and it yelped in pain, pulling back its paw. It shook his head in confusion, looking at its paw, and for a moment, Mul wondered if one of its claws looked… Twisted? But before he could make any sense of what had just happened, the narrow, sharp spike at the bottom of Viy’s halberd stabbed through the beast's mouth and left it in a gurgling mess.
Not enough HP for that, uh? Mul thought.
He shook his head and pushed himself to his feet.
Viy was doing incredibly well in coming to grips with her guilt and in building her path upon it, despite everyone’s reservations to that decision. And it was obvious to anyone watching that those lines were soon about to become her second skill gain while in the Brightnight.
Meanwhile, he was still stuck with the same skills he had gained from his first assessment in that den of psaelis. And what’s more, he wasn’t even able to use them fully yet, nor was he allowed to use his active skills! That damned suppressor had yet to find him ready for it.
A gust of wind blew a splatter of blood and mud in his helmet, and looked to his right as the gunk burned away.
Mach was a veritable storm upon the battlefield.
Winds, snapping with static energy punished the loentu if they managed to get past his gusts and claws of wind, and using his [Tempest Steps], the vanore was blisteringly fast on his feet, spreading the chaos of his winds, static damage and [Bleeding] status effect across the battlefield. The aethermancer looked untouchable in his vortex.
That should be me, Mul thought bitterly. A pillar of flame scorching and destroying through the battlefield with impunity… But he wasn’t. Instead, he was kept on a leash by that damned suppressor!
No… By my own failure…
He clenched his fists. The red never fully disappeared from his eyes when he fought, no matter how hard he fought to keep his thoughts clear, his heart pure and his mind in control of his raging, burning aura, he never truly managed it. It was always too much for him to tame.
What am I missing?
**********
You keep going this fast, and I won’t be able to keep up with you… Jul though, pressing her lips in the wake of Nar’s [Aura Blade].
“Ow…”
“Sorry, hang in there,” Leta said.
“Thank you,” Jul said, with a pained grimace. “And don’t be sorry!”
She was sitting on the floor, behind Tun’s protective [Phalanx of Safeguarding], while Leta, kneeling beside her, had her glowing needles spread around a nasty gash in her leg. The healer’s aura coated her flesh, pouring down the needles and into Jul, and the deep cut they were arranged around began to close. The dark green blood she bled slowed to a trickle, and then stopped entirely, as Leta healed flesh, muscle and skin.
“Ugh,” Jul whimpered, as agony laced through her in great, screeching bouts.
“Just bear with it,” Leta said. “It’ll just be another couple of minutes. Need to fix the inside too, you know?”
“Of-of course!” Jul managed, all her four hands clenched as she did her best to not scream. As Jasphaer had promised, serious healing always came with pain.
In a bid to distract herself, she paid an active attention to all her senses, taking over from her [Awareness].
The bigger female loentu beasts had finally exhausted their tail spikes, and they had been forced to join the fray alongside the males. They were twice her height, and four times her length, and Jul winced as Mul climbed atop one of them, roaring from the top of his lungs as he delivered deadly, fiery punch after punch. Soon enough, he had the beast dead at his feet.
However, he collapsed atop of it, and Jul could hear his labored breathing.
Hang in there, Mul. You’ll get there, she thought, her heart clenching for him. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to help him, or if there was, she didn’t know it. And so, grimacing, she turned her attention elsewhere.
The battlefield should have been filled with fear aether. Even with fear aura coming from her party members as he struggled against the tide of fur, claws and spikes. Instead, she saw, heard, and felt nothing. No matter how hard she pushed herself to sense for that elusive emotion that would take her to the next stage of her path, she just couldn’t.
At times, she could almost sense something just out of her reach… Calling out to her from out there. Reaching for her, just as she reached out for it. But they could never touch. Something always caused her to miss the connection, and she just couldn’t figure it out.
“Done!” Leta announced, slapping her shoulder.
Sighing, Jul was about to let go of her senses, when something dragged a slow, icy claw down the back of her neck.
Shivers burst across her body, and she snapped her head towards the casters fighting atop the cave.
What… Was that? She thought, staring not at the cave, where the matriarch still hid, but at the darkened tree line behind the ranged up on that ledge of dark rock.
Then a piercing roar echoed from the cave, drawing her attention and deafening her senses.
“Is that the rare?” Leta asked.
“Yes!” Jul shouted.
“The matriarch is coming out!” she warned in the chat.
“Good job everyone! You’re doing great! Here comes the rare!” Kur said. “Let’s take it down! The first of many!”
Cheers rose within their minds, but Jul pushed past them and Kur’s follow up stream of orders, and drove her senses towards that dark tree line behind the delvers up top, and then, she pushed beyond it.
Had she imagined it?
Comments
Lucas Onderwater
Hahaha! :D
Lucas Onderwater
Hehe!
Swally
"from kissing Mul’s raging fist" such a nice and innocent description of getting punched to death :D
CTrees
Thanks for the chapter, dis gonna be brutal 😅
