Chapter 39

Hero To Zero P2

I began the fight by pulling the trigger that prompted the twirled buoyant grass into unleashing the birch canes to spring out beneath the soles of my mecha. Directing the angle of my preemptive long jump towards the Wizard who was pulling up his staff to shield himself. My peripherals blurred as I rushed into the air, directly to the wizard, opting to deal with him first before he could cast a spell. Abruptly, I saw the glimmering and precise visage of a plated warrior, who had reacted to the speed of my on-going pre-emptive attack, with an attack of his own. With no other choice of evasion, I gripped my analog twigs as I was barged through the air. I landed on my knees several paces away from the flabbergasted Duke and alarmed Wizard.

Spinning, and ducking, I avoided a horizontal glowing slash from another armored participant. Cursing my due diligence, I backpedal back to then counter the armored man who had the gull to continue swinging. By his third swing, I dismembered his hand that was holding his sword with the vibro-blade. Hearing the whistling sound of steel coursing through the air, I instinctively jerked my Mecha away from slicing the man who had shrieked miserably into silence with my plasma blade.

200 Slash Critical Damage.

The time-dilation and the tempo gave me the opportune time to avoid another piercing backstab and swinging slice. The participant was aghast looking at his stump spurting blood and his enchanted sword on the ground. Six warriors against one, all with unknown classifications and likely high level to fit their profession. I had calculated the risk, the temporal chances I could abstract by preemptively disabling the wizard first, but I did not account for the swiftness and acumen the plated soldiers could bring and did bring to the match.

Evidently, with the benefits of my size, and the amount of damage my mecha can sustain, I can possibly swallow a few piercing strikes without being killed. But the luminescent swords those guards were holding could nullify the predicted paths I had envisioned into taking down the wizard. The Wizard was the highest priority, because of his mystical capabilities. There is a likely chance, one of his spells could totally obliterate my mecha, or hinder it into immobility. Calculating the risk and factors involved in my dilemma and tactical play through, I cursed the rage inside me that had first alerted them to my presence.

With my heart drumming to the beat of the tempo, I avoided two vertical slashes in front of my mecha. I swung my 150 cm plasma sword into a horizontal slash which gave me space and time to account for the positions of my foes and myself. There were two soldiers behind me and three in front of me. The last one was gawking at the fleshy stump that used to have a hand in disbelief. It was only seconds, but the dismemberment of his hand and the pain that would invoke such injury must have prompted the man into a state of shock which was enough for me to classify him as a non-priority in my tactical approach.

Standing up fully from my crouched posturing form, I mechanically posed my mecha’s left shoulder to face the three in front of me, with the right to face the two positioned behind her. Swiveling Amelia’s helm from left to right, I garnered the soldiers were timid to act without a command, but that wasn’t the reason they were truly dawdling. It was Amelia’s mechanical precision and robotic poise which was too alien for them thus making them indecisive to act.

“Kill him!” The Duke, blurting his command.

Before they all got a chance to pierce me with their swords at the same time, I surprised them by aiming both fisted gauntlets directly in front of them. With a grin, I pulled the triggers that launched two barrages of combusting rockets from their socketed knuckles aiming at their proximity. The minor combusting explosions had given me time to follow up with another horizontal slash forward with my plasma sword. However, before I could swing, I heard the words of a spell.

35 Piercing Critical Damage.

20 Piercing Damage.

50 Piercing Critical Damage.

30 Piercing Damage.

60 Piercing Critical Damage.

“Death Spiral!” The wizard intonated, striking his staff forward to launch a conforming spiral of purple and dark shadows. The phantom of dark energy rapidly increased its speed as it was sent straight for me. With my time dilated speed I had against all things big, I avoided the trajected ball of magic by launching my mecha’s compressed stick in the left leg onto the carpeted floor. Dodging the spell had cost me the initiative to follow up from my distracting barrage. The spell had spiraled out from the opened doors to then detonate and explode a visceral amount of shadows---marring the stone wall of the interior of the castle tower.

The tremors that had resulted from the dark explosion---paused us for a moment. At that moment, I considered my options. I steered Amelia to move in front of an armored participant that was blocking the sight of the wizard. Hearing the mutterings of another spell, I cursed myself and the wizard for his indifference to his subordinates.

Another similar phantasm was cast, but this Death Spiral was minuscule, due to the terse duration Osferth had allowed before launching the spell. Abruptly, the soldier in front of my mecha---turned pale when the projectile collided against his plated back. He then shriveled into a dead and bony husk. When the body had collapsed onto the carpeted floor, everyone in the nearest proximity took a step back in horrified fear from the instance of death the spell had conjured.

“What are you gawking at! Kill the fool!” The Duke rebuked his terrified men into action. That moment of horrified pause allowed my mecha the time to launch between the two startled soldiers ahead of me, straight in the direction of the wizard who was conjuring another ball of dark energy. Before launching, I had angled my two swords to cut the two soldiers in my path. My vibro-sword sliced past metal and sinew, cutting a deep furrow to the right soldier’s left shoulder; whilst the plasma sword on my left with its far-reaching length, cleaved the man’s sword and body in half like a hot knife through cheese sticks. Cauterized body parts clattered on the floor after my second skipping step to Osferth.

150 Slashing Critical Damage.

Before he could cast another of his demonic spells, I launched my plasma sword as I landed to slash his staff and him into two. He reacted quickly by stepping back, leaving his staff to be bisected by my swing. About to rush forward, after my mecha’s left strike, I prepared a slash with my vibrating vibro-sword. When I was about to finish this old man's existence with a grimace, my mecha was all of a sudden pushed off her soles, flying back from a blast of dark streaming air. Amelia had collided her backplate against the wall, still pressured back by a gust of rushing air streaked with dark shadows that were funneling towards her. When the spell ended, I sat there gobsmacked at the Duke who was perspiring as he held his hand out, dark energy sputtering between his stubby fingers.

“What are you waiting for! Kill him!” His gobbling voice went hoarse from the constant shouting and his spell he had just cast.

‘Two magic users? Oh Goddess, give me a break!’

With my teeth-gritting, I posed Amelia to slant forward, crouching her form to prepare for the two soldiers that we're shifting towards me, their enchanted swords glowing to reflect the perspiration on their faces. The Duke placed both his hands on his knees and breathing deeply from the feat of magic he just brought into battle.

“I don’t have enough intelligence for this.” The Duke gasped out a complaint.

“I concur you fat pig!” I remarked, with clenched teeth.

I then heard it, a stampede of plated soles smacking onto limestone. I swiveled Amelia’s head to direct a glance at the opened doorway. More soldiers came forth into the battle.

‘5. 6. 8. No, more...’

Cursing the goddess luck, I readied myself again. “I can do It,” I said, my voice not faltering to the steps that continued on. By the time the stampede had ended, I counted at least 20 more participants into the wide circular stone room. With my shoulders tense, my fingers clammy, I prayed to my resolve to continue onwards into the battle for my friends.

“Kill him! He has a Legendary Title! Kill him and you’ll get it!” The Duke yelled.

All the soldiers who were crowding towards me had brightened with gleeful understanding at the prospect of attaining my title.

“Kill him!” The Duke commanded.

So with adamant resolve, fueled by fury and disgust, I engaged the battle once more. I had slashed through two plated men with my plasma sword, their colleagues halting them from dodging and retreating by the sheer numbers they brought into the conflict. Swords were sliced through as I parried their swings with my vibro-sword. One smart individual had hollered the rest of the men who were attacking my right to aim for the sides of my vibro-blade, to avoid damaging their swords.

Spinning and dashing through the amalgamated army of plated men, I had killed approximately four individuals, without gaining a level. Then I glimpsed it, the reason why I wasn’t getting any of their life essences. Their fellows were killing off the near-death and injured soldiers that had crossed in my wake. I stared at them in horrifying comprehension, rage simmering at the futile hunger all the humans around me showed me and one another.

After a spontaneous pirouette with both swords slicing through metal and flesh. I took a reprieve to estimate the casualties and my position. I was at a corner, my face perspiring as I looked through the vision slits at the array of metal humans all striving to murder me. I grinned, It looked like the Duke wasn’t planning to cast any more of his spells and the Wizard was disabled from doing so. I swiveled my glare to the Duke and the Wizard, who had positioned themselves behind Art’s cot. To my horror, the Duke drew out a stiletto with a jewel-encrusted pommel.

“Stop! Release your weapons, or the child dies!”

The point of the piercing knife was hovering on Art's wailing head. My body froze up at the vision. My face, once adamant with grim resolve allied with blistering rage---transformed into pale devastation at the baby with a knife above his head.

“No, no... What do I do?”

My hands, unclenching the analog twigs, as I shakily stare past the cold metal, into the triumphant expression of a tyrant with no conscience.