Eyes of the Satyr – The G.O.A.T. Part 3
The strikes grew in power and speed, forcing the air to compress and explode, each carrying a devastating shock-wave that disrupted the air within my lungs, threatening to burst inside my rib cage.
I couldn't keep up with my eyes.
What seemed like a stalemate at first soon turned into a frenetic assault. Each second meant a centimeter of ground won. Each second meant one more blow landing where it should. Each second clearing the muddy uncertainty of what the outcome would be.
The Protector was losing.
Each time her spear cut into the Blood Fiends, blood would spray out and stain the ground, her armor, and her weapon in deep crimson.
For every drop of blood one Blood Fiend lost, the other gained. For every drop of blood gained, their wounds closed, their speed increased, and their strikes grew more powerful.
“IT'S MOVING!” Pokh'Orra warned. “CUT ITS ARMS OFF ALREADY! SEAR THE WOUNDS WITH FIRE! NOT A DROP OF BLOOD ON THE GROUND!”
The sound of a flurry of strikes striking different metals came from behind, forcing the hairs all over my body to stand.
The third Blood Fiend broke free from Natasha's skill. A monster with a level of 1217 versus a Halve with a level of 1351. The logical conclusion would be the other two Blood Fiends had bolstered it as well whenever any blood got out of their bodies.
The Protector struck along with the golden mantle above her, piercing and slashing the aberrations of blood, also becoming faster and stronger with each passing second and meeting the relentless onslaught.
“They're healing the curse,” Lady Alyssa muttered in realization. “Look carefully,” she suggested. “Whenever Natasha cuts into them, the curse doesn't spread.”
Those details escaped me, unfortunately. I am but a Performer. No skill in my repertoire could aid me in sensing such events. All I saw was blood spraying for an instant, only for the wound to close shut the next.
“THE THING IS SLOW!” Pokh'Orra's voice came. “CUT THE LIMBS FIRST TO REACH THE HEAD! BONTE! HANNA! GO FOR THE SAME LIMB TOGETHER! THELEA! YOLIN! GIVE THEM AN OPENING!”
A drop of sweat ran down my brow. The temperature behind me had reached well over one thousand degrees Yiama considering my Constitution and the bonuses the party was providing. It was stuffy, uncomfortable, and sound had great difficulty moving in such a medium, which made singing and playing the Cioline a challenge.
The many strikes pushing air that cut through sound only increased the struggle.
True to the task given to me by the Party Leader, I retrieved a light quordatta along with a flute, then activated [Lord Popabotta's Wrongdoings to Gentleman Fabiano and the Tragic Happenings that took Place Thereafter, Volume I].
The instruments floated a few centimeters away, then started playing as if ten of each, pushing back against the air pressure with robust and packed harmonics, effectively forming a 600 meters domain in which only the party could affect air, negating shock waves up to a certain point.
Originally a skill to be used in social events to provide safety to the audience so they could speak freely without being eavesdropped, it was also incredibly useful for other purposes. Luckily, the Blood Fiends had no skills that directly manipulated the environment in a similar way.
The Protector struck again and again, covering the ground with blood and flesh, only for the monsters to gain an edge due to the carnage.
“I can't stop their healing,” Lady Alyssa commented with great annoyance, then clicked her tongue. “They're too powerful for me to influence.”
“Well, duh,” came Elena's amused retort from behind us. “They're over five hundred levels above you. Aim at the blood instead of them. Increase its acidity or spoil it.”
I quickly peeked behind.
The ancient Elf was aiming her staff at the third Blood Fiend, a purple, arching beam striking the monster's head.
The monster's limbs were ignited and burning, open gashes a full meter long covering the cords that made its body.
Bonte and Hanna circled around it at neck-breaking speeds, cutting and stabbing at it while evading its whip-like arms flinging about.
Lady Yolin was standing in front of it, arms crossed to protect her face and neck, yet being pummeled by its many strikes. Her resilient body took them in strides, but flinched slightly whenever her head was hit. “Weaker than Natasha!” she mocked the monster. “Too weak! Far too weak!”
Thelea stood next to Lady Yolin, shield raised and under attack by the whips just like her fellow tank.
Whenever a whip would strike the two Scouts, an ethereal shield or arm would get in the way, completely blocking the attack but bursting it in a small flash of light.
The monster's eyes, covered in shadows, were full of ethereal arrows similar to a Seamster's pincushion.
Each time a blade or arrow opened a wound, it would burn by either fire or lightning, leaving a charred hole that prevented any blood from leaking.
A gasp next to me made me quickly turn my head.
The Halve was not in the middle of the two Blood Fiends anymore. Instead, twenty three spears impaled them to the ground, each different from one another.
A loud crash came from the ceiling, where Natasha was lodged into the stone directly above us.
I felt the world go quiet despite not stopping my music.
A golden liquid dripped down from above, splattering in front of me. Its glow and richness was unmistakable.
“...” Lady Alyssa was quiet.
“...” I stopped singing.
“...” Elena had no witty remark.
The Protector was made to bleed.
“AII HOOOOOOH!” Natasha screamed unintelligibly.
Then, suddenly, a brightness akin to the death of a giant star enveloped my vision, blinding me in burning pain.
“YOU SIPHILITIC WHORE CUNT!” A scream that threatened to rip open the cosmos echoed in the cave, chilling my spine and preventing me from complaining about the pain. “PREPARE TO DIEEEEEE!!!”
A violent gust of wind knocked me down. Then, a pair of hands grabbed me and unceremoniously threw me somewhere, where another pair of hands caught me and handed me to someone else's pair of hands.
“PUT EVERYTHING ON DEFENSE!” Pokh'Orra's voice demanded with urgency. “USE EVERYTHING! NOW!”
My eyesight returned as soon as those words were finished.
Yolin stood in front of the group, arms stretched wide. Fifty floating arms were tightly arranged in the form of a net with no gaps in front of her. Behind the arms, a wall of shields and spears stood, providing further protection.
Thelea stood behind Yolin, two tall and wide shields covering both tanks.
A barrier encircled the entire party, which stood against the wall of the cave.
Bonte, Hanna, and Pokh'Orra stood in front of me, Lady Lapia, Elena, and Lady Alyssa.
It all happened in an instant.
Pokh'Orra finished her words, my eyesight returned, and a sound that was similar to the ripping of clothing reached my ears.
Through the ethereal images of shields and arms, Natasha floated mid-air not even half a meter below the cave's ceiling, arm extended downwards and glowing the brightest she had.
The ground cracked below us, then rose a full ten meters, taking us with it. Then, the ground gave in and went down five times that.
Heat, sound, light, and pressure assaulted my senses at the same time, pushing the entire party against the wall with colossal might.
Groans of pain and effort left all our mouths at the same time.
My ribs shattered at once, but were healed the next moment.
“DIE!” came the second scream of the Protector.
The already cracked ground shattered further, taking us up a full ten meters, then going down ten times that.
The pressure was greater this time, and so was the heat, the sound, and the brightness.
Once again my ribs were shattered, then healed the next instant.
Air moved violently, rustling my hair and clothes, robbing me of the capacity to breathe, hear, and speak, leaving me in a world of silent pain.
“BRACE!” Pokh'Orra warned. “SHE'S USING GAE BULG AGAIN!”
“DIE!” came the third edict of death.
But nothing happened. The sound of stone cracking and falling, only to shatter on impact against something was all that could be heard.
“What happened!?” I urged, scrambling to sit up in confusion.
Lady Alyssa met my eyes, wearing a complicated expression. “Natasha got injured, and I'd assume her survival instincts kicked in.”
“They're different beings, after all,” Elena panted, laying on the ground and looking up at the ceiling. “Halves suck E'er into themselves like a starving vacuum when that happens.”
“I'll pull hear ears real good after this,” Lapia hissed in anger.
“You all signed up for this,” the ancient Elf retorted from her position on the ground, giving the younger one a chastising look. “If you don't like it, stay back and become a researcher like I did.”
“It's not over,” Lady Yolin pointed out, gesturing forward.
We turned to the cave.
Or what once was a cave, more accurately.
Ten meters from the wall we were pressed against, a massive chasm had replaced the cave floor, going deeper than light could reach.
Within that hole, one glowing golden dot was climbing up at a fast speed. Its many tendrils and scythes helping in the task.
Elena let out a long, defeated sigh. “That Blood Fiend got a hold of Halven Blood,” she voiced the collective conclusion. “This is going the get really ugly.”