Mountain of the Immortals

I could already feel my hands crackling with energy as I raised my sword. The harpies were now almost upon me and it was time I took care of my defenses as well, or rather made sure their attacks would not be as dangerous. I howled like a rabid beast, triggering a debuff before changing it to a roar so I could stack an additional buff as well, just before I struck the first harpy.

* * *

Name: Intimidating Howl

Level: 5

Type: Debuff

HP Consumed: 0

MP Consumed: 38

Power: 0

Range: 700 inches

Precondition: None

Description: The mana-empowered howl of the user sends chills down the spines of their enemies. Even though this skill is not enough to cause the enemies to flee in terror, it rattles their resolve to such an extent that their attacks are half-hearted at best. Reduces the Physical Attack of nearby enemies by 23% for 30 seconds.

* * *

The eyes of the harpies looked terrified now, while my body brimmed with energy as my last buff took effect.

* * *

Name: Roar of War

Level: 2

Type: Buff

HP Consumed: 0

MP Consumed: 18

Power: 0

Range: Self

Precondition: None

Description: The user is filled with the uncontrollable urge to jump into battle, without any regard of their personal well-being. The roar temporarily unlocks mana channels in the user’s body to increase their toughness and regeneration rate. Maximum HP is raised by 15% and the user instantly recovers 15% of the new maximum HP value.

* * *

The rest of my self-buffs wouldn’t be much use in this particular fight and it didn’t look like I had any time to cast them either way. I slashed, hacked, thrusted, and pierced the incoming onslaught of enemies, cursing my luck for not having at least one spear in my inventory.

I had trained for ages with that weapon, and all my skills had evolved around that specific fighting style. That meant that I had no damage-dealing skills to launch at the harpies with the sword, limiting my options to normal attacks only.

The harpies attacked me viciously but their hits packed much less power and their attacking speed wasn’t incredible either. I only needed three to four hits to take most of them out, their fallen bodies acting as a hindrance to their allies who had flocked to kill me. Critical hits, however, which were further boosted by the Vandalier aura, either took them out instantly or barely left them standing. And since I had no active attack skills to use my MP on, I could afford to leave the aura on for the whole fight, not having to worry about draining all of my MP.

My HP bar was steadily going down but not fast enough to pose any real danger to me. The harpies were going down much faster. However, the skill that pulled them to me had a limited range. All the harpies outside its spherical boundaries continued attacking the ship and its sailors.

So vicious were their attacks that I soon stopped hearing the terrified voices of the mortals even as the harpies continued to bombard the ship, which could only mean one thing. The mortals were dead and I was left to fend for myself against the decreasing number of beasts.

My HP had dropped to about fifty percent, and I could now feel the pain of my injuries, when the effect of the Provocative Defiance skill ended and the three harpies that were still attacking me directly flew away, only to come crashing back down onto the deck again.

By this time, however, the clouds had already regained their power and I was able to command two more lightning strikes at my enemies. I looked at the sky and realized I was correct in my count of how many of the harpies were left. The last four of them were repeating the same diving attacks over and over again.

A deafening crash threw me off my balance as I was cutting down one of the flying beasts. The whole ship leaned to the side and I found myself rolling over and above the handrails. But before I was thrown into the air, I managed to stab the wooden side of the ship with my weapon to keep myself aloft. My expectations for this reactive move were very low, especially considering the low quality of the sword’s metal.

Luckily, the blade lodged itself between two planks on the side on the hull. I turned around to look at the position of the monsters as I tried to pull myself up again. The situation was much worse than I’d initially estimated.

Not only were the three remaining harpies on to me, especially now that I was in the most desperate position, but the ship had been broken in two. I could have been able to fix a ship with a few holes by using tools in the cargo, but broken in two... that was the end of the story.

I pulled myself up and onto the deck again just in time to avoid the sharp talons of another harpy. However, the other two that followed it managed to wound my exposed back. But that was exactly what I hoped they’d do.

Knowing the direction they were coming from and their speed, I grabbed one of them by its long, hard leg and slammed it onto the ground while I decapitated the second. It didn’t matter whether it was still in good shape or its HP was still high before the attack. Having charged the blade of my sword with electricity, it was able to cut clean through the beast’s neck. I climbed up the deck of the now capsizing ship, holding onto the injured harpy, its twitching body painting the wooden deck red.

The last of my flying aggressors had apparently realized that attacking me had been a big mistake and was now circling back and away from me. However, I wasn’t going to let it escape to notify my father and his minions. Without thinking anything of it, I snapped and cut off one of the beast’s legs, its now stiff taloned feet acting like any other throwing weapon.

I did my best to aim at the beast and launched the improvised weapon at it. Before the leg even reached its target, I threw my sword right behind it. The talons grazed the monster’s feet but the sword struck its right wing. I climbed onto the handrail on the opposite side of the deck, which was now parallel to the surface of the sea, and looked at my accomplishment.

My smile faded as I saw that the beast not only wasn’t dead, but was still able to fly, albeit with some difficulty. And it was getting away. But I quickly realized that all I needed to do was wait.

I kept watching as the monster’s figure became smaller and the ship below me sank further and further into the water. The harpy wasn’t able to gain enough altitude to escape the clouds, and when it reached the spot where my trap was waiting, I raised some of the clouds and tried to merge them.

Almost instantly, a bolt of lightning that was much brighter than before and accompanied by a deafening crash of thunder hit the harpy and I watched it fall into the sea the same moment my own feet were submerged in the water. I hastily tried to swim away, so as not to be pulled down by the half of the ship that was sinking below me.

I wouldn’t drown of course. At this level, I was able to hold my breath for hours. However, having an idea of where in the Aegean I was by now, it would be hundreds of miles before I reached a shoreline again and I couldn’t swim forever.

But that was what I was going to have to do for the next... was it five hours? Ten hours? Perhaps two days?

I kept swimming southeast, hoping I would find an island that would shelter me. Over and over again, I put one hand in front of the other, pushing the water back as if climbing an endless mountain of it. Whenever the cramps in my arms made it too painful to continue, I would use my divine powers to part the clouds above, silence the winds, and try to float in the still waters for a while. It didn’t matter if there were storms brewing in the distance or if there were high waves approaching. The waters around me were ever still.

However, even with my vast stamina, divine powers, and superior strategic mind, swimming for hours on end without a real chance to rest was taking its toll on my immortal body. There were moments where I dozed off, only to wake up filled with panic as I swallowed salt water and thrashed my hands, trying to find my balance.

The first time this happened, the adrenaline rush kept me swimming at full speed for thirty minutes straight afterward. Then it happened again. The fear of drowning is a powerful kind of wake-up call, and yet by the fifth time it happened—or perhaps the tenth—my adrenal gland seemed to have run dry.

Running on fumes was an understatement. I remembered swimming while the day turned into night and night into day again, but I had no recollection of my actions. I just kept going.

But ultimately it wasn’t enough. My mind was operating beyond my control and eventually my body shut down as well. I was drifting in the open sea, with nothing to keep me from floating or plummeting to its dark depths.