Chapter 8

Kat Walker had the ringing of the town bells filling her ears from all angles, and it was not helping her mood.

She, her Mom and GM Brotastic had arrived in Arvönnr only last night IRL. They had to reluctantly call it a day to get some sleep. When the next day rolled around, her Mom called her day job Boss to try and get a day off. They were going to go meet the wayward son of the Walker family, lost in a coma for 6 years.

Kat knew her Mom’s Boss was a pretty hardcore asshole, but she had hoped that some measure of humanity was inside that black heart somewhere. Boy, was she proven wrong.

The epic douchebag told her, “Come in for work or don’t come back ever again. I don’t care if someone’s in a goddamn coma, you’re missing your fucking quota!” Then he hung up.

When Kat logged in and told GM Brotastic about it, the guy actually gaped at her for a good 5 seconds and remarked. “Geez, what an asshole!” She agreed entirely. If Boss Asshole was in front of her right now, she’d call her gank squad and let them sort him out. Then when they were done, she’ll ram her gladius in his rear and let him bleed onto the cobblestones while squealing like the pig he was.

Unfortunately, that was only wishful thinking. Her Mom tearfully told her to meet up with Isaac first and hurried to work.

Fast forward to present time and now this stupid Elite Griffon was screwing everything up.

“Good.” Kat thought viciously. “I need some stress relief.”

There were not really many players around in Closed Beta, even though WORLDTREE was pretty much on the verge of shifting the game to Open Beta status.

(GM Brotastic thought he had been discreet about it, but Kat already deduced that there was a planned ‘Stream Upgrade’ that was going to happen very soon.)

So, Kat did not bother gathering with anybody else. She was going to go out, call her troops and kill that overgrown bird rampaging outside the town. She marched out of the gate, staying clear out of the way of the carriages and the antelope/horse things pulling them. She passed a middle-aged human whose face was stony with sorrow. He had a screaming young Poukha Svartalfar girl slung over one shoulder. She wailed a single name over and over again even as she beat her fists ineffectually against the man’s back.

Kat laid eyes on a scene of carnage. The caravan guards had already taken serious casualties. The melee fighters were gathered together, their heads swiveling ineffectually as the Griffon flew overhead, far out of reach of their steel. Kat could almost taste their frustration from where she was. The mages had been devastated, judging from the bloodied robes lying scattered everywhere. The Player corpses had long since faded, but the NPC mages were still present.

She could see a Poukha fighter with horrendous injuries on his legs lying senseless on the ground. Next to him, a catgirl was kneeling with her head bowed and her staff in her hands. The crystal was glowing brightly, casting a healing light that slowly mended the canine’s wounds. There was a name floating above them, but she was too far to read it, nor was she near enough to figure out which one the name belonged to.

Arrows filled the air, fired from the walls and the caravan archers below. The Griffon’s wingbeats were too strong – the gusts blew the projectiles away before they could even hit.

Kat unslung the Decanus’s Horn from her belt. She raised it to her lips and blew. A long and defiant note soared above the battlefield.

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“Isaac…You idiot.”

Those words woke him from his fitful slumber. Isaac’s eyelids felt crusted over as he opened them. Riselda’s face greeted him. She was kneeling next to him, her staff planted in the ground as she channeled a [Resurgence Circle].

It was a risky spell to use. It required the caster to remain completely immobile.

She was crying, he realized. He had never seen her cry before, and it made her look utterly miserable. Her tears just kept flowing and dripping on the floor.

“Stop doing this to yourself, you fool!” She muttered hoarsely. “It’s too painful to watch…at least save yourself in the process!”

“…I won’t die. Riselda.” He told her, feeling the spell soothe the agony in his legs. “I’m from the Stars, remember? But…you’re different. If you die, you won’t come back…that will be too painful to watch…for me.”

“That does not make it right at all!” She shouted back, her voice quavering. “I’d make you swear an oath to never do it again…but you and I know it would be impossible to keep.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “This world isn’t kind enough to allow it.” She smiled bitterly. “At the very least…promise to keep self-sacrifice as the last resort. Please.”

Isaac smiled back. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

Riselda nodded solemnly. “I’ll have to settle for that, then.” She stood up, her spell cutting off. The Griffon’s shriek briefly overpowered all sound on the battlefield. They both looked up as the Elite Monster zoomed by overhead.

A strident shout answered the monster’s cry. A group of new soldiers had appeared on the battlefield. Their armor and weapons - loricae, scutum shields, crested helmets and throwing spears - were so different they stood out. Standing in their midst, one arm holding a golden standard capped by twin wolves howling to the sky, was a young girl with her hair styled in twin ponytails on either side of her head. Despite her youthful appearance, she stood proudly with undeniable authority and a calm gaze that tracked the Griffon without hurry.

Isaac still felt twinges of pain in his legs, but he stood up as well. Dried blood cracked and fell off as he gripped the [Healing Rune Charm] strapped to his belt. He felt the final vestiges of pain fade.

“Legionnaires! Pila at ready!” A loud voice. A voice full of command that emanated from the young standard-bearer.

“That voice…” Isaac thought. “Why does it sound familiar?”

The Romulii Legionnaires moved as one. Like a smoothly oiled machine, they reached into holsters and withdrew throwing spears, one each to a man. They cocked their arms, ready to throw. With one voice, they shouted.

“AHUU--!”

The Griffon soared and dove. It was lazily treating the entire battle as sport. The bulk of the mages were dead. The fighters could merely react to its overwhelming air superiority. Truly, an [Arrogant Lord] indeed. But the 10-men squad consisted of Romulii Wolfbloods – humans descended from their twin Wolf Gods Junonus and Tiber.

That was why Katherine Walker showed no hesitation when she shouted “Loose!”

Arms powered by demi-god strength uncurled, lofting pila at blurring speed just as the Griffon was coming out of a dive. With its wings on the downstroke, the gusts of air protecting it were weak. These missiles were not like the small, light arrows that had pelted it before.

The Griffon screamed in true pain as the missiles pierced right through its iron-hard plumage. In an instant, both its defenses and its arrogant pride were damaged!

Predictably, its response was to wheel and dive right at the Legionnaires, talons outstretched.

“[Formation: Testudo]!” With that order, the soldiers stepped into formation in an instant, their shields up and braced in a tough shell.

Given its earlier successes, it was no wonder the Griffon chose to continue its divebomb. This only made the resulting “SQWUARK?!” funnier when the monster bounced off the interlocked shields, the Legionnaires beneath them sharing the impact and shrugging it off with the power of teamwork.

The battlefield erupted with mocking laughter. Seeing their tormentor look like an utter fool was a huge boost to morale.

Coming out of its uncontrolled aerial tumble, the Griffon’s confusion and frustration was almost palpable. It groggily righted itself and quickly flapped higher to regain its bearings.

Isaac grinned. Finally...they touched it. They could hurt it! Now it was time for him to do his part in this battle as well. He raised his sheathed sword. His face returned to focused calm, his innocent eyes now narrowed.

“Weave a Cloak of Seamless Thread – [Windwalker]!”

The Air-aligned magic spell: [Windwalker]. It raises the speed of the caster and his allies, both to move and to attack. Like all Air element spells, it had a long duration and synergized with other spells very well. However, since it still required casters to dodge attacks it was not as popular as other Defensive spells like [Arctic Bulwark] and [Enflamed Shroud]. It was easier to cast standing behind a shield rather than moving about after all.

The sheath of the sword lit up in a complex runic circuit, as did the blade in it. The pommel of Isaac’s saber was a hollow oval. An orb of pale-green light formed in the center before flashing. A pair of indistinct anklets, sprouting long wings made of gossamer clouds formed around his boots for a brief moment before fading until it was almost invisible.

While Isaac was doing this, Riselda was not being idle. With a loud rip, she tore her long, cumbersome skirt and tied it up so it would not trip her up again. Raising her staff, her face hardened into a fierce snarl and her eyes glowing bright green from the leashed magic coursing through her whole being, she spoke with fury. “If my [Ice] won’t reach you, then suffer my [Lightning]!”

“Pure Lance! Bright Lance! Five-pointed Brionac!

Aim once and strike True,

Silver Standard, raised to Defy! – [Thunderous Score]!

Three Verses’ worth of power. The Sphere-variant of Lightning Magic. A [Fireball], in comparison, is a straightforward spell that flies, hits and explodes with force and reach determined by its Verse Rank. [Thunderous Score] is a different beast.

Bluish-white mana burst forth from Riselda’s staff, which shook from the violent pulses. In the sky, guided by the spell, the mana swiftly coalesced and formed into five great spheres of bright energy. Lightning crackled ceaselessly all over these menacing spheres. The Griffon instantly got a taste of their power when it flew too close to one of them. With a flash of light, the Tyrant screeched in surprised pain as a bolt of lightning scorched it. Blackened feathers drifted to the ground as it was forced to flap vigorously to keep aloft.

The [Lord of the Skies] swept its gaze around and saw an impudent mage, its tiny staff upraised in defiance of its betters. The Griffon was stunned. Even after its peers had been culled…it still dared to rise above its station?! THIS! IS! AN! OUTRAGE!

Far below it, Riselda was far from done.

She saw the Griffon begin to dive. Now she saw its chest begin to billow out. She knew without a doubt that it was going to Scream again. To sing that detestable [Blood Mist Dirge].

She had originally planned to use the Chant, but this forced her hand. Silent Cast it is, then.

She aimed her simple staff at the Griffon and her gaze met the monster’s in mutual hatred.

She did not say the name, but Isaac recognized the spell. The Two Verse [Lightning Bolt].

The Griffon avoided the first bolt, rolling to the side with the unnatural agility it possessed. However, no amount of agility could save it from Riselda’s second bolt. For a single blinding instant, Isaac saw thin trails of lightning spray out from the Griffon and touch the floating spheres of the [Thunderous Score]. The spheres shifted, and then accelerated-

KRABOO-BOO-BOO-BOO-BOOM

The Griffon was hammered repeatedly by the spheres, which exploded into bursts of searing lightning on impact. Its pained screech was lost in the stuttering booms of exploding magic.

[SYNERGIC BLAST: HALLS OF THUNDER]

As the [Synergic Blast] faded away, the Griffon was left flapping drunkenly in the air. It lost height, drifting closer to the ground. Its entire form was trailing smoke and its head lolled in a daze. No doubt, the monster’s head was ringing from the damage it had just taken.

Riselda dug her staff into the dirt and sagged against it, her energy spent from the powerful spells she just unleashed. Isaac closed his hanging jaw with a click and sped to her side with a single bound, thanks to [Windwalker]. He laid a supportive hand on her shoulder.

She smiled tiredly at him. “Go. Finish it.” She rasped.

Isaac nodded silently and ran. He chased after the drooping figure of the Griffon. As he watched, yet another volley of pila from the Legionnaires pelted the monster like a swarm of angry hornets. Orbost the Archer set himself low and drew his bow so hard it threatened to snap. His arrow glowed and he released it, firing a [Auger Shot] that bored through a wing in a spray of blood.

Further along, he saw Bara-thon in the distance. Nyakka, almost bent double in an all-out sprint, was charging right towards him. “OI! BARA-KUN! GIMME A BOOST!”

Bara-thon took a single glance at his Pugilist friend and nodded. He took a moment to gauge the Griffon’s path and ran until he was in its path. Dropping his maul, he crouched down and cupped his hands together. When Nyakka’s foot met his cupped hands, Bara-thon heaved her into the air with a bellowing roar.

A blur of half-naked catgirl was all the warning the Griffon would get before Nyakka grabbed onto singed feathers, swung herself onto the back of its neck and began unloading punch after punch into the back of its head. “SHITEIKIMASU! KUSO YAKITORI----!!” (You fucking roast chicken! Fall!) She screamed for the whole place to hear as she rode the Griffon into the ground.

Narghel’s voice rose in a mad cackle somewhere nearby. “Hahaha! She’s really pissed! She’s reverting back to Japanese!”

Sliding to a halt, he lowered himself into the stance of [Argent Glint]. Directly ahead of him was the dust cloud that arose from the Griffon plowing into the grassy field. Nyakka was nowhere to be seen. Even now, the blowing wind swept the air clear, revealing the monster as it shook its head to clear the last of the dizziness from its mind. Isaac did not give it a chance to react to him.

His foot pushed down. A circle of dust and wind hurled him forward.

[Heat Edge] + [Drawing Slice] *Hsssss-schnnnk!*

A line of flames drew itself in his passage. The Griffon cried out in fury. Isaac knew it was not enough.

He flipped over, his knees bent. His boot pressed flat on thin air before he launched again, an expanding ring of Wind mana blooming from his footstep. His saber, still glowing with the orange-yellow heat of a furnace, carved into feathers and flesh.

*Shnnnk!*

He slid on his feet and leapt when he began to slow down. His saber, held in a two-handed grip, slashed out.

*Shnnnk!*

Another line of flame. [Windwalker] will not last forever. The Griffon must burn!

*Shnnnk!*

Faster!

[Mirrored Moon]! *Shnnnk!* *Shnnnk!**click*

Faster!

*Hsss-Shnnnk!* *Shnnnk!* *Shnnnk!* *Click*

Faster!

From outside in, the combatants saw a lone Poukha swordsman take on an Elite Monster and thrive. He started out fast, but he only got faster and faster. His booted feet treated thin air like solid ground, and his flashing sword left lines of burning light as he passed.

Faster and faster. His was a blur.

Isaac wove a cage of fiery light. Under this relentless onslaught, the Griffon’s damaged plumage began to burn in earnest. At last, he felt the [Windwalker] anklets begin to gutter and slid to a stop. Behind him, the Griffon thrashed, frantically trying to put out the bonfire that was its once-proud feathers.

Isaac panted harshly, feeling the full price his blitz had demanded from his virtual body. He sheathed his saber once more and turned around to keep an eye on his enemy. Nils had drilled into his head the need to never assume a battle to be over until you can confirm your enemy’s death. Sure enough, the Griffon struggled to its feet and shrieked a war-cry, despite the fact that it was now thoroughly covered in blackened soot. Isaac’s shoulders slumped briefly before he steeled himself for the fight ahead.

Then, he was abruptly shoved off his feet by an unseen person. “Thanks for all the hard work, noob!” a Player in plate armor sneered as he faded back into view. His name read ‘H3adBash’ and he wielded a greatsword. “You can’t have this mob. We aggroed it first!”

“Hey! What the fuck, man!” Bara-thon’s voice floated over. “You can’t just- Oof!” Isaac turned his head to see another Player in a Conan knock-off getup shove his friend backwards.

Narghel stalked over, his mouth set in a downward curve. “Feh. You guys…you were the ones who led this Elite over to us!”

Isaac’s gaze snapped back to H3adBash. He felt rage boiling in his veins. “You…You caused all this?” He asked, indignation in his voice. “People are dead because of you!”

“What are you so mad for? They’re just NPCs.” H3adBash retorted callously. “Fuck off and take your tryhard RPing with you, scrub. I ain’t got time for fucking casuals.” With that said, he took off, charging towards the Griffon with his weapon raised.

Isaac got to his feet and started to run after him, but a crossbow bolt buried itself at his feet. “No kill-stealing, asshat!” One of H3adBash’s four companions shouted. He had a crossbow raised and pointed at him.

The other combatants on Isaac’s side were scattered all over the battlefield at this point. The Legionnaires were jogging as fast as they could in their direction, while the various caravan guards were rushing to their location from everywhere.

Bara-thon glared darkly at the four Players. “…Screw this. Screw the PK flag. I’m going to pound their asses into virtual dust!”

However, the Griffon seemed to enjoy pre-empting Bara-thon, because it reared onto its hind legs and shrieked loudly. Its eyes flashed a baleful red, giving Isaac an instant’s flashback. “Rage mode!” he blurted out. H3adBash was within reach of its talons by the time he realized his predicament. He parried and blocked desperately with his two-handed sword, only able to make weak attacks now and then. “HEY! I NEED HELP!” He screamed at his companions.

His team members rushed to assist him. All that accomplished was to put them within range of a flurry of frenzied claw swipes that battered through their defenses and ripped them to shreds. Four voices screamed before they were silenced and their avatars dispersed into fading light.

“[Charge]!” The Legionnaire commander’s voice rang out. The Romulii heavy troops and everyone else obeyed the order, slamming into the Griffon with a howling roar. Hemmed in on all sides by shields and suffering a rain of blows, the Griffon could not gather the momentum to start its mad slashing again. The surviving mages gleefully sent Fire spells arcing onto it as payback for its earlier actions.

Even then, the monster was still deadly.

Each slash of its talons sent at least one warrior tumbling through the air. Some landed and struggled to their feet. Others flopped to the ground and remained deathly still, or vanished into motes of light. A Legionnaire had his tower shield cracked clean in two had had to be dragged out of the melee. The twin-tailed girl with the wolf standard leapt fearlessly into the gap he left in the line, her gladius flickering in and out. A blade popped out from the top of the standard as she began to wield it as a spear in her other hand.

Bara-thon charged into the fray, his maul held up high. Narghel, who was standing next to Isaac, slammed the butt of his staff into the ground. Three sharp spires of rock burst from the earth, spun and flew at the Griffon. Nyakka reappeared, soaring above the gathered fighters and unloaded a flying kick to the Griffon’s face.

Isaac began to recast his buffs. First was a Silent-cast [Windwalker]. Before his Charge bar could descend past its second node, Isaac put his ignited mana to good use.

“A Wrathful Voice, thus Engraved,

Ashen Dust is my Wake – [Heat Edge]!”

This time, it was not only his saber that glowed with the light of a heated forge but every weapon on the field. There was a hearty roar of appreciation as the fighters renewed their assault with fresh vigor. Bursts of flame erupted on the Griffon’s plumage once more.

At this moment, Bara-thon charged right through the crowd, his maul cocked back. “[SHELLBREAKER]--!” He roared. The maul’s head fell like a blazing meteor from the skies, impacting the Griffon’s neck with a crack so loud it echoed off the town’s walls. Burnt feathers went flying everywhere. A patch of bare flesh was exposed to the world.

==[VITAL BREAK]==

The appearance of that message electrified every Player on the field. “KILL IT! KILL IT NOW!” Someone yelled.

But it was not that easy. The Griffon knew it was on truly on the verge of dying. Its pride had been broken and scattered to the winds. Now it threw away the last vestiges of its dignity and fully unleashed the primal savagery that always lurked skin-deep. It exploded into a screeching whirlwind of violence that hurled the closest warriors away.

Isaac leaned forward and pushed off. He sprinted, gathering speed. He felt his focus narrow until the only thing left in his vision was the Griffon. Straining his mind, he sought the great hole in his enemy’s armor.

At the critical moment, his eyes met the Griffon’s. Isaac saw the monster’s true courage, now free of the crust of arrogance that had built up over the course of its life. He saw the stubborn will to never submit, a feeling he knew intimately. In that instant, Isaac was filled with respect for the Tyrant.

He would make its death clean.

“HRAAAAAAAAH---!” [Drawing Slice]!

A straight line hung in the air, drawn with burning heat. The Griffon’s head tumbled slowly to the earth. Isaac began to fall as his gravity took hold. His saber slid slowly back into its sheath.

*Click*

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In the aftermath of the battle, many things were happening.

Some of the combatants had collapsed where they stood, doing nothing but pant in exhaustion. Many of these were caravan guards, who had been engaged in battle longer than anyone else.

Others were picking through the battlefield, crying out the names of those missing or dead. Many of these were NPCs. Tears of sorrow and joy were being shed at the same time. A youthful Poukha girl was sobbing in heartrending fit together with a plump human woman with grey streaks in her hair. They were kneeled next to a wrecked cart. In contrast, an older man was hugging a rather disoriented youth tight to his chest. The young man was clad in damaged chainmail and a dented helmet.

Katherine Walker was getting quite a bit of experience in coordinating disaster relief efforts. “Cassius, take Octavian and Argosax with you and sweep further up the road for survivors. Do you have you enough bandages and Regen potions?”

Cassius nodded in confirmation. “Yes, Decanus. The town healers just dropped off a fresh batch. I’ve taken the liberty to grab some of it earlier.”

“Okay. You have your orders. Go.”

“Ave, Decanus!” He slammed his fist into his chestplate in salute and marched away to do his duty.

Earlier, she sent Magnus, her second-in-command, to find out why the Arvönnr town guard was absent from the battle. It turned out that the soldiers had been mobilized by the region’s Thane to combat an Unborn incursion at another village further along the border. It was simply rotten timing by four particular Players when they thought they could lure an Elite mob to the town. They had planned to let the guards wear it down and take the ‘final kill’ by themselves.

Kat was looking forward to what will happen once they respawn and attempt to enter Arvönnr. They would get quite a rude shock, if this continent’s laws were anything like Romul’s. She’d probably record the scene…it should be good for a quick laugh or two later.

Letting out an inaudible sigh, Kat turned her attention back to the corpse of the Griffon. Once the damages were tallied and the injured tended to, the time would come to salvage the corpse of the monster. The townspeople would most likely haul the carcass into the walls, butcher it and apply magical restoration to salvage useful materials out of it. She herself had seen the process happen before.

“Hey! Over here!” A familiar voice shouted. Kat turned her head and smiled mischievously. “Oh, hello, Mr. Brotastic. How was it, being dead?” She asked casually.

GM Brotastic jogged up to her with a sheepish laugh. “Ahaha…well, my GM powers don’t kick in unless something’s wrong, you know…It’s to prevent abuse of power.” He had been killed by the Griffon when he dodged the wrong way and received a swift talon to the face. It was a pretty embarrassing way to die. He was allowed to bypass the revival lockdown, however.

Kat rolled her eyes in mock derision before turning her gaze back on the dead Griffon. The Poukha swordsman with the intricate tattoo-like patterns on his fur was still standing there, looking pensive. A catgirl mage with dark red hair had joined him.

“Holyshitthat’shim” Kat heard Brotastic gasp.

She gave him a raised eyebrow. “Say what?”

“I said that’s HIM!” the GM exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the swordsman she was looking for.

Kat’s brain stuttered to a halt. She whipped her head around and finally noticed his name. Her first thought was “I must be blind and stupid.” The following ones were not so coherent.

The Legionnaires nearby instantly stopped whatever they were doing when they saw their unflappable Lady of War sprint like a woman possessed, tackling a Poukha swordsman so hard they went down in a tangle of limbs. Why would she do that? Perhaps the Poukha youth was a criminal or something? There was no time to think, so the Legionnaires defaulted to their training.

“ASSIST THE DECANUS, YOU IDIOTS!”

For Katherine Walker, her planned reunion with her brother was not as touching as she liked, as her loyal soldiers dogpiled the both of them in order to apprehend the ‘criminal’.

It was the first time she seriously began to consider that all her plans outside of battle were jinxed.

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