The Last Experience Point

Chapter 64: Game Over

An icy, numbing wind spread across the battlefield, and Zach shivered for the first time since entering Phase Level 2. His teeth chattered, bumps formed along his neck, and the sweat running down his forehead turned painful and caused his eyes to sting. The utter harshness of it caught him off guard, and it became a struggle to ignore the intense discomfort brought on by this sudden bout of deathly cold. Even the glowing, burning embers that were shooting from his hands vanished into nothingness mere inches after leaping off his skin as though extinguished by the freezing temperature. For Zach to find himself vulnerable once again to the chill, this must’ve been an exceptionally frigid and powerful gust. As it rolled across the grassy field, it howled loudly enough to be heard even above the shouts of fear and alarm from the Elvish warriors who stood in a line to both sides of him. Unlike Zach, however, none of the Elves visibly reacted to the blast of bitter air or gave any indication whatsoever that it affected them. Instead, all were focused intently on the Fundead Shockers that were moving hastily in their direction.

“May the Gods have mercy on us,” said a green-cloaked woman with braided brown hair four Elves down the line to Zach’s left. Her face tightened and her pointy ears became rigid as she stared at the approaching enemies. Though far, far smaller in number, the Fundead Shockers were clearly a great deal deadlier than their Roller-Ghast cousins, as evident by the way in which one had absolutely vaporized the white-cloaked Elf known as Eilinariat. And there was no telling how lethal the slower-moving “Blood-hunting Maneaters” trailing behind them would turn out to be, either.

“What do we do now?” asked another Elf, who sounded equally as rattled.

“I don’t know,” Nerilan replied. He turned his head to Zach. “Human boy: can you slay them the way you slew that one over there?” He pointed to a spot across from Zach where plumes of smoke were still trailing above several small puddles of ooze; it was all that remained of the Fundead Shocker Zach had killed only moments ago with Phase Slash. “Can you eliminate more of them that way?”

Despite the answer being obvious, Zach quickly took a glance at the information in the air before him, hoping to see something different from what he already knew would be the case. As things stood, he had 8:02 remaining on his current duration of Unleashed Phase, and at a cost of 1:10 per use, he could technically use Phase Slash seven more times—and by extension, kill seven more enemies. But would that really fundamentally change anything? There were dozens of these electrified creatures coming at them, and all were about to begin firing more lightning. But even more importantly than the impact it would have on the battlefield was the consideration of how much time the repeated use of Phase Slash would leave him with.

Fylwen had claimed she would heal him only after she and her people had survived this ordeal. If Zach collapsed into E-debt before that point, there would be no chance he’d survive long enough for her to tend to him: not with two high exertion debts and a very high on top of it. Thus, while perhaps somewhat selfish, Zach was hesitant to do anything that would leave him with a dangerously low amount of time. He had to make it out of here alive.

As long as Kalana lived…and as long as she loved him…he could not afford to die in a place like this.

“Well? Can you?” Nerilan asked, clearly unnerved and impatient.

As Zach shook his head, he could see the faces of those around him darken with disappointment. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Because of exertion debt?”

Again, Zach shook his head. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, and it would require too much time and effort to explain.” Shifting his eyes first to his left and then to his right, he evaluated the anxious-looking Elves fighting alongside him. “How long until everyone’s debuff expires?”

“Just about two minutes,” Nerilan said. Then, with an out-of-place chuckle, he added, “It would be a real shame to die now.”

Zach gave a curt nod. He agreed wholeheartedly. With only two minutes remaining, it really would suck for them to die when the end of this nightmare was so close at hand. If the majority of the Elvish warriors did not live through these next two minutes, it would mean that Zach had gone through this entire ordeal for nothing but a few mediocre level-ups, which was why he now seriously considered ending at least a few more of the Fundead Shockers with Phase Slash. Surely, as long as he kept at least two minutes on his timer—maybe three to be safe—he would be fine, no? He would just have to urge Fylwen to tend to him immediately.

But what if she prioritizes healing her own wounded people first? he wondered nervously. I hate the idea of cutting it so close.

Before Zach could fully consider his options, his attention was drawn to the sound of deep, agitated moans coming from the Fundead Shockers; electricity concentrated around their roller skates, with tendrils traveling up their legs and then into and through their bodies. This, Zach knew, meant they were beginning to charge up a fairly large volley of their electrical attacks against the Elves—one that he feared would result in a massive number of casualties. After all, Eilinariat had been a stout, imposing figure—the very image of strength—and yet just a single strike from a single Fundead Shocker’s lightning was enough to detonate his entire body and reduce the entirety of him to a pile of bloody, fleshy scraps. So, there was little doubt in Zach’s mind that any of these Elves wouldn’t face the same exact fate if struck.

“What in the name of the Gods are we doing?” Nerilan growled as a line of about forty of the creatures all lit up in unison as the roller-skating fiends readied their deadly attack. “We’re just standing here waiting to die. We’d be better off taking our chances and charging these…these profane abominations.”

“I concur,” said a white-cloaked Elvish woman with short, curly blonde hair and atypically square-shaped ears; she stood with her back straight a few Elves down the line to Zach’s right and held her blade with a reverse grip. “Alloweth us square with blade in hand.”

Her words drew roars and cheers of agreement from the assembled Elves. Nerilan, nodding his head, quickly raised his blade high in the air and cried, “Let’s not make this too easy for our enemy! Charge!”

And with that, the battle reached its next—and likely final—phase. Zach watched in a mystified stupor as the world erupted with the sounds of shouting Elves and stamping feet as every Elf dashed forward towards the Fundead Shockers with their blades raised and ready to strike—all except Queen Vayra, who stayed behind with Zach, Fluffles, and Chumpkenwiffles, although the latter two were once again ascending into the air.

“What are you waiting around here for?” she asked him with what Zach took to be a total lack of self-awareness. With a glare, she raised her chin at the line of Elvish warriors rushing in to do battle. “Get in there and fight!”

Zach swore under his breath. He did not appreciate being ordered about like one of her pawns. He was here in a purely voluntary capacity, and given the way she’d been treating him, she was lucky his assistance remained voluntary. Then again, now that he was in Phase Level 2, he kind of had no choice, as without her healing, his death was a certainty. But even that did not give her the right to bark orders at him like he was her subject. Regardless, though, there was nothing to be gained in arguing the point or wasting time thinking about it. And so, drawing a deep breath, he bent his knees, ignored his exhaustion, and bolted forward while raising his own blade, ready to join the others in their desperate, final push. Above him, he saw Chumpkenwiffles and a transformed Fluffles soaring across the sky to engage more of the mounted, flying mummies.

Just two more Gods-damned minutes, Zach thought as more frustration began to seep in. They literally just need to last two more minutes.

Before the Elvish warriors could cross half the distance between themselves and the enemy, the first barrage of lightning strikes was already escaping the open palms of the Fundead Shockers and streaking indiscriminately towards the green- and white-cloaked fighters charging in their direction. All of it seemed to come at them at once as though synchronized. There was so much lightning headed their way that Zach became partially blinded—but only partially. Unfortunately, even with spots in his eyes, he was still able to clearly make out the final moments of two white-cloaked Elvish women and a green-cloaked Elvish man who were struck head-on and vaporized instantly, their bodies transforming from beautiful Elvish elegance into something more resembling a literal cloud of blood, bones, and tissue that hauntingly seemed to drift on the wind. A fourth Elf, this one somewhat slender and shorter and wearing a white cloak, avoided being directly struck through what looked to be mere chance. Lightning crashed into the grass just inches from his leading foot and caused a secondary detonation that not only halted his forward momentum but sent him nearly two-dozen feet in the opposite direction. He landed on his back with a loud, painful-sounding groan, but he looked otherwise unharmed.

Though the three dead Elvish warriors were a terrible misfortune, Zach could not help but feel at least some degree of relief that the others managed to escape harm. It seemed that the accuracy of the Fundead Shockers decreased significantly against moving enemies. For this, Zach was grateful. Of the nearly forty bolts fired at their group, three struck and killed their target, one merely downed and wounded its victim, and the rest miraculously missed them entirely and crashed into empty ground, causing miniature craters to form as thin plumes of dust, grass, and pebbles were kicked up into the below-freezing, bitter air. Thankfully, though, no one else appeared to be hit—well, sort of.

Technically, another bolt did find its mark, and it was Zach who was struck dead-on, though he only realized it a few seconds after it actually happened. His vision impaired from the bright electrical flashes, he hadn’t even seen it coming. He merely felt something akin to a light slap on the side of his head. It was as though someone had flicked him or had thrown a paper ball at his noggin. Totally unharmed, the brief experience emboldened him. It reminded Zach that, at least for the moment, he was the strongest living being on this battlefield, and he needed to do all he could to help his new Elvish friends.

“Keep charging!” Nerilan cried, bolstering his Elvish fighters. “Do not stop!”

Lacking any sense of sentience, the mobs remained fearless and undeterred as dozens of sword-wielding Elvish warriors dashed across the field heading their way. Now, just as they’d done before, the entire lot of them began charging up once again for what could only be another round of attacks. All at the same time, their roller skates sparked and glowed, which soon gave way to tendrils of electricity climbing up their body and into their arms before concentrating in the palm of their hand.

Despite having given the Elves a head start, Zach not only caught up to the others, but quickly pulled ahead of them as he blasted forward with enough speed to cause his tunic to flap loudly against the wind. In no time at all, he reached the first Fundead Shocker in the line of nearly forty of them. The creature, as though reacting to his presence, made a confused-sounding “Ruuuuhhhh!” and then abruptly ceased charging. The electricity pooling together in its palm dissipated, the tendrils vanished from throughout its body, and its roller skates ceased sparking. It simply…stopped.

So taken aback, Zach nearly tripped over his own two feet as he contemplated why the Fundead Shocker had decided to pause its attack. As a result, he halted clumsily in front of the monster, and with an equal clumsiness, he sent out a slash that he’d intended to remove the thing’s head from its shoulders but instead only managed to cut into its right breast. Nevertheless, his mouth fell open in surprise as he struck for 10,907 damage and killed the decaying sack of flesh instantly in a single hit.

HP

0/10000

Name

Fundead Shocker 2A

Level

20

Zach stared confusedly at the creature as it dissolved into green ooze before his eyes--which, as it so happened, he could no longer even smell, as he himself was so covered in the slimy, revolting filth that he’d actually become immune to the scent of it. The creature’s body liquified and dissolved while a +3000xp appeared in the air before him. Wrinkling the bottom-right corner of his lips, Zach struggled to understand how his clumsy little slash had done more than twice the damage to this zombie that one of his well-aimed, full-powered, and decapitating blows had done to any of the Fundead Roller-Ghasts he’d slaughtered in droves after reaching Phase Level 2. Not to mention the fact that these guys were also two levels higher.

As the Elves caught up to him and began filing in to both his sides, the answer to his question became apparent; the Fundead Shockers reacted to their approach in exactly the same way as the one that Zach had just killed had reacted to his. All in unison, they cried out with a loud, confused-sounding “Ruuuuhhhh!” while immediately halting the charging of their deadly electrical attack. Yet unlike Zach, the Elvish warriors did not manage to kill a single one of them. Together, as a group, the Fundead Shockers did something Zach had never before seen from a mob—or at least one that was not under the effects of Rian’s fear. Moving as a single unit, they outright retreated. Simultaneously, every single one of them began skating backwards and away from the incoming throng of murderously angry Elves.

As Zach watched them skate away, he became increasingly confident that the reason why these mobs were retreating was linked to the reason that his sword had delivered twice as much damage as he’d expected: it was because the Fundead Shockers were weak to close-range, melee attacks. That had to be it. It was the only thing that could explain why they would run away once an enemy drew too near—a tactic, Zach now saw, that revealed itself to be successful.

Noticeably slower than Zach, whose speed stat was inflated beyond what he could bring himself to believe, the Elvish fighters did not manage to cross the distance in time to catch their prey. Instead, they shouted loud battle cries and continued to pursue, running right past Zach, who for the second time, took off after them. And it was at this point that the Blood-Hunting Maneaters finally decided to join the battle.

The Fundead Shockers, in an unusually organized display of battlefield tactics, retreated behind the Blood-Hunting Maneaters and then continued to back-skate to gain even more distance. At the same time, the Blood-Hunting Maneaters marched forward and towards the charging Elvish fighters, who all paused their advance as if in hesitation as they took in the eight-feet-tall monstrosities that were stamping their way towards them.

Zach couldn’t blame them for their hesitation; the large, fiendish giants bearing down on them were, by far, the most unsettling, intimidating thing of everything Zach had encountered during this battle. Taller than the tallest of humans, these Blood-Hunting Maneaters had triangularly shaped eyes, bald heads, razor sharp teeth, and flesh-colored blades in place of arms. They also did not appear to be zombies; their skin was a reddish-pink color and looked more discolored than rotten. They were naked, though they lacked the anatomical elements that would enable Zach to identify them as male or female. Their feet were also large, and their toenails were long and sharp. Although there were only eight of these creatures in total, their size, along with their horrific appearance, made it feel like there were a great many more.

“Greeeehhhr!” they growled. “Greeeehhr!”

Behind them, the Fundead Shockers began reorganizing themselves into a line, skating so that they were once more orienting themselves in a side-by-side formation. Zach frowned. He knew what they were intending to do, and he needed to warn the others. “Nerilan!” he called as he raced after the Elvish warrior he’d saved. “They’re—”

“I know,” Nerilan said, pausing in place and waiting for Zach to reach his side. “They’re going to fire on us from a distance while those…those monsters keep us at bay.”

“Shit!” Zach hissed. “We have to break through. They’re big, but there’s only a few of them.”

Unfortunately, not only had the Elvish warriors ceased their charge, but now, they began to retreat back the way they’d come until pausing once again by Zach and Nerilan. “Human boy,” one of them said. “I don’t suppose you would mind going in first and letting us study them for a bit? You are, after all, the most capable among us at this moment.”

There were numerous nods of agreement from the other Elves, and Zach found their reluctance totally justifiable. Judging off appearance alone, the Blood-Hunting Maneaters certainly lived up to their name. The level-24 mobs looked like they should have been low-tier bosses in their own right. All along their bladed arms and large, muscular legs were bright blue veins that ran over their hairless, mutant skin. It was no surprise the Elves did not want to rush in at them without first seeing what they were dealing with. Yet there was no time to sit back and observe the enemy. If they did not smash their way through, the Fundead Shockers would shower them with more lightning—likely while they were still in the process of dealing with these so-called “Maneaters.” Zach did not want to offend any of his newfound allies, but he couldn’t afford to put his words gently. He needed to convince everyone to once more charge the enemy even if he had to come across as a dick to do it. Luckily, however, he was spared having to be the one to persuade them.

“Doth ye has't shame?” angrily shouted a female Elvish woman wearing a white cloak. She stepped forward. Even if her gilded, shiny breastplate had not caused her to stand out from her peers, the deep, fearless quality to her voice would have. She extended her arm and pointed her sword at the pack of large, towering creatures that growled continuously as they approached. “Ye wouldst cower behind a child?”

Her words had an impact that was both powerful and immediate. As though humiliated into action, the backpedaling Elves appeared to overcome their fear. Once more, they joined together in a unified battle cry and then advanced towards this new, terror-inducing foe—though unless Zach was mistaken, they did appear to move just a bit more slowly than they had only a moment prior. Zach, for his part, did not mind if he was the first to go in. And so, like before, he raced ahead of them yet again, and also like before, he was going to be the first to reach the enemy. With a sigh, he prepared himself for whatever may come next. And while he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated by the vicious, animal-like appearance of these “Blood-Hunting Maneaters,” he also knew that he was the most capable fighter among them right now and that being in the lead was best for all their sakes.

My survival depends on their survival, he thought.

Clamping down on the terror that threatened to give him pause, Zach rushed towards the centermost Blood-Hunting Maneater. As he drew nearer, he hoped the Elvish fighters were smart enough to know that they needed to divide their forces so that the majority could continue to charge the Fundead Shockers to prevent another barrage of lightning. Quite clearly, they couldn’t all engage these eight huge enemies. That would result in the Fundead Shockers being able to freely cast whatever spell or ability they were using to shoot electricity out of their palms—which would translate to massive casualties among the Elves.

Steeling himself, Zach reached the mob called “Blood-Hunting Maneater C,” and with that, he sprang into action. Up close, he really began to appreciate just how large this thing was, as he had to crane his neck upwards just to see the razor-sharp teeth in the creature’s mouth as it growled at him. “Get out of my way!” he shouted at it, taking a step forward and whipping his sword from right to left while twisting his hips. The creature released another growl, but this one of pain. Zach’s blade ripped into its midsection and tore open its flesh. As opposed to ooze, a far more unsettling dark red blood splattered all over the grass with a fair amount of it also covering the front of his tunic.

HP

20,200/25,000

Name

Blood-Hunting Maneater C

Level

24

Having hit the creature for 4,800 damage, Zach struck with enough force that it caused the monster to turn slightly to one side, opening it up to a follow-up attack. Having no idea what tricks this thing had up its sleeve, Zach wisely chose not to seize the advantage as the large, vicious, and growling monstrosity twisted itself back around while raising both its flesh-colored blade-arms in one fluid motion, delivering a neck-level, X-shaped slice that made the air whoosh as Zach ducked beneath it.

“Greeeehhhr!” it growled as it bent its knees so that it stood only a single head’s height above Zach. Then it lurched its body forward. It was an odd, strange movement, but Zach, feeling some degree of pride in himself, knew exactly what the creature was intending to do. With its left blade-arm, it swiped upwards from its hip, and with its right, it struck downwards. The result was two bladed arms attacking him vertically from opposite sides. This, Zach outmaneuvered with a single backstep. Then he quickly raised his sword to guard another strike from the monster’s right arm.

The impact of his sword against the arm made a crack as opposed to a cling. From the level of shock relative to his current elevated stats, Zach somehow knew on some level that this thing was actually strong enough to seriously hurt him if not kill him. The Blood-Hunting Maneaters were every bit as dangerous as they looked. But just from this brief exchange, Zach could also see that their massive power came at a cost. Though it wielded its blade-arms in a way that was intensely lethal, its movements were heavy, weighty, and performed with exaggerated motions that made them predictable. Unless this creature had more to offer than it had currently shown, things were really starting to look up. This, Zach came to believe even more firmly as he struck again for 4,201 and immediately after for 5,005, watering this alien grass with more streaks of dark red blood.

We’re actually going to be okay, Zach thought, mentally rejoicing. These things are nowhere near as difficult as they—

“Nerilan!” cried a female voice to Zach’s right and slightly behind him. Zach’s shifted his eyes to see what had happened. Then his jaw dropped and his heart sank as he saw his new Elf friend cut into two halves along his torso. A pool of blood stained the grass as his intestines began to spill out of him. From the top half of his severed body, his eyes lowered in what did not look to Zach like fear or pain, but rather total confusion—as though he was unsure of what had just happened to him. Zach was equally as confused. And this confusion turned to outright disbelief as another scream of misery erupted to his left. Now, he turned to see an Elvish woman hovering several feet in the air while gasping and choking and coughing up blood. One of the Blood-Hunting Maneaters had jammed its blade-arm straight through her chest and out of her back and had lifted her up, dangling her midair while she kicked her legs and gargled as if unable to breathe. Within seconds, though, she had stopped kicking. And then the mob coldly threw her lifeless corpse onto the ground.

What the hell is going on? Zach shouted in his head.

Even while barely paying attention to the mob he was fighting, Zach was able to slip under another X-shaped attack and raise his blade to deflect a slash from above while he scanned the area around him for some clue as to what in the name of the Gods was happening here. Yet what he saw only served to heighten his confusion. Everywhere he looked, he saw the Elvish fighters struggling—and losing terribly—against the Blood-Hunting Maneaters. They were being absolutely destroyed. Even though only two had died so far, it was clear to Zach that the entire bunch of them were going to perish at this rate. Not only had none broken off to chase down the Fundead Shockers, but even outnumbering these mobs, in some cases five to one, they were being absolutely fucking demolished. What Zach didn’t understand was why. He couldn’t understand why they were losing so badly.

Did that Elf across from him not see that the Blood-Hunting Maneater he was fighting was bending its back leg and lifting its front in what could only be a powerful, upwards strike with its deadly, bladed arm? Or did that white-cloaked Elvish woman with the fancy breastplate who’d roused them into action earlier not see that the reason she was being pushed back was because her foe was shifting its weight from foot to foot and she was failing to anticipate its alternating strikes? In fact, everywhere Zach looked, he saw the same problem: these mobs tended to attack from very strange, very unusual angles as if to throw its enemy off balance. But this was easily seen through…wasn’t it? So what, exactly, was the problem here? Why were these mobs crushing the Elvish warriors? Why were the Elves failing to anticipate and respond to these blatantly telegraphed attacks?

Gods, Zach thought, releasing an audible gasp as he suddenly understood what was plainly happening here. A chill ran down his spine as it dawned upon him that he’d been overthinking things and that the answer was exactly what it appeared to be at first glance. They’re totally unskilled. They have no idea what they’re doing, and they’re all going to get themselves killed!

Up until this moment, Zach had assumed them to be capable swordsmen and swordswomen because, earlier, when he’d been surrounded and nearly killed by those Fundead Roller-Ghasts, the Elves had experienced a much easier time defending themselves and even holding their own against the horde. Now, however, Zach came to understand that this was not due to their skill with a blade, but simply the fact that their stats were likely higher—even with their current debuff—than his were while at Phase Level 0 or even Phase Level 1. Put simply, their bodies had been quick enough to counter-attack the sword-wielding zombies, whose shortswords struck so fast that, at the time, Zach could do little more than defend. It had not, however been due to their proficiency with a sword.

How can that even be? Zach wondered. Aren’t these trained Elvish soldiers?

Without a doubt, Zach’s own success in dealing with his Blood-Hunting Maneater was due in part to his absurdly increased stats. Clearly, obviously, that made a noticeable difference. And yet, in spite of that, he was positive—one hundred percent positive—that in a one-on-one fight with one of these, even at Phase Level 0, he would win provided he didn’t exhaust himself. He didn’t know how much damage he’d do or how many strikes it would take to kill one with far less strength, but assuming he had the stamina to deal with the creature, he was completely sure he would come out on top.

Since the day Fluffles had taught him how to use a sword, he knew he’d found something he was naturally gifted at. He picked up on things quickly—and he often surprised even himself with how precise he was with recognizing motion and anticipating attacks based on body movements and posture. Yet he never would have expected that he’d be so far ahead of these Elvish soldiers that he almost began to look down on them for how inept they seemed, at least compared to him.

Having seen enough of Kalana’s people perish today, Zach made a promise to himself that he would not let a single additional one of them die. Enough was enough. The path to living through this was becoming clearer by the second. And even as a pain slithered down his chest and into his gut at the sight of Nerilan wiggling on the ground in two pieces, he tightened his grip on his blade and prepared to put this whole ordeal behind him once and for all. No more. He was done playing games.

Not one more Elf, he promised himself. Not even one more Elf!

The “Blood-Hunting Maneater C” attempted to lunge forward and run him through just as one had done to the Elvish woman a bit to his left. Zach, however, would not prove to be so easy a victim. Grunting, he spun around to the creature’s side, and then with all his might, he delivered two strikes, one after the next, that tore the creature’s chest apart while splattering what looked like gallons of blood all over his tunic, face, and leggings. The first hit for 4,817, and the second, which struck the same part of the monster’s body but from the opposite direction, hit for 4,623.

HP

1,554/25,000

Name

Blood-Hunting Maneater C

Level

24

Almost as though it sensed its own demise, the creature flailed its lethally sharp blade-arms at him at uneven angles in a staggered pattern of attack. With two quick flicks of his wrist, Zach batted both aside, and then he stepped forward and ran his own sword through the monster just as its friend had done to the Elvish woman. He punctured it through the heart, assuming it even had one, which it likely didn’t—then he jumped back, somewhat startled, as the creature made a haltingly loud “Greeeehhhr!” and dropped down into a squat. Now, it hugged its own body, and it began to disappear while a sound not unlike that of a vacuum cleaner filled the air, fading away only when the creature did.

“Greeeehhhr!” it let out one final time as it disappeared, its voice trailing off mid scream.

+5000xp

Without wasting another moment, Zach urgently spun his body to the left, then quickly shuffled a few paces to his side, lining himself up so that three of the seven remaining Blood-Hunting Maneaters were more or less in a straight line ahead of him as they dominated the vastly underperforming Elvish warriors.

“Go!” Zach yelled at them. “Stop fighting these guys and chase after the Shockers!”

All the Elves to this side of him shot him a questioning look, though only briefly, as they needed to return their attention towards surviving the Blood-Hunting Maneaters, whose oddly angled attacks were not only throwing them off their game, but caused an Elvish girl who looked to be around Zach and Kalana’s age to lose her arm from the point of her shoulder, much the way Zach had during his encounter with Ziragoth. She fell to the grass, screaming. The Blood-Hunting Maneater, practically ignoring the other three Elvish fighters attacking it, seized upon the opportunity and thrust both its bladed arms downward as if to finish her.

Swearing out loud his most obscene and profane curse words, Zach activated Boundless and then used Phase Rescue. Immediately, two minutes and twenty-five seconds’ worth of time was deducted from his current duration of Unleashed Phase while a blue light engulfed the girl before shrinking her inside of it and whisking her away to Zach’s side. With a thwack, the Blood-Hunting Maneater’s arms pierced the ground where she had just been lying. Now, she bled out onto the grass beside him.

“Fylwen!” he shouted, turning his head back in the direction he’d left her. “I need you to—”

“I’m here!” she shouted from directly behind him, giving him a brief scare and making him flinch. “I came running the moment I saw.” Dropping to the ground so quickly she came into a something of a slide, she grabbed the Elvish girl and immediately began to chant something under her breath. As her hands began to glow, Zach saw her stroke the girl’s hair. With love and compassion in her voice, she said, “You will not die today, Saerina. You’re going to be okay.”

The girl was screaming in pain, writhing uncontrollably on the ground. Tears fell freely from her eyes as she called out for her mother who, incidentally, happened to be there with the rest of them. Zach swore aloud a second time, as once again, he had to use Boundless and Phase Rescue to stop her distracted mother from losing her head to an easily predictable swipe coming from “Blood-Hunting Maneater A.” It wasn’t even an odd-angled attack, either. Fluffles had given him worse to deal with the first day he’d ever held a sword than the little swipe that’d almost killed her.

“Get away from them and charge the Fundead Shockers!” Zach shouted as loud as his voice would carry.

“B-but then they’ll attack us from behind,” replied the voice of a clearly skeptical Elf.

“No, I’ll deal with them. Just go!”

“All seven of them?” asked a thin, lanky Elvish fighter with auburn hair. He came across as dubious if not outright disbelieving.

Pressed for time, Zach had to put in real effort not to clench his teeth angrily or lose his cool. “Yes, all seven of them. Especially since none of you stand a chance against these. Look, we don’t have time to argue. Just listen to me, Gods damnit!”

Several of the Elvish fighters opened their mouths, but Zach preempted whatever they intended to say. “No more questions. I’m not answering anymore Gods-be-damned questions! Go now—or die. Your choice!” With that, he spun around and faced the opposite direction. Then he called out to the remainder of the ground forces that were squaring off against the other four Blood-Hunting Maneaters. “You guys as well! Ignore those things and let me handle them. I only need to survive for, what, a minute? Just drive back the Shockers and keep them running until the debuff runs out. Now go! Before they finish charging their lightning. Hurry!”

He knew what they were going to say in reply, and once again, he kept a step ahead of them. “I’ll grab aggro. Just fucking go already!”

Zach inhaled as much oxygen as his lungs would allow. Then he released it all in a quick, mostly unsatisfying sigh. His hands were continuing to shoot embers, and the cold was still dissipating them almost the moment they left his palms and feet, but unlike before, he no longer felt the chill. Now that he was back in action, he’d again begun to sweat.

I’m going to be cutting it really close again, he thought. Gods dammit!

Zach knew he needed to act quickly. To both his sides, the Blood-Hunting Maneaters more or less stood in a relatively straight line—but only for the moment. As the Elves began backing away from their large, overpowering foes, their formation would become staggered. If Zach wanted to grab aggro, he’d have to do it now.

“Wave Slash!” he shouted, swinging his blade in an arc and forming the green, patchy, cloud-like clump of energy that quickly solidified, sharpened, and turned into a metallic, double-bladed disc. The exact moment it departed from his blade, he did an about-face, and for the second time, he shouted, “Wave Slash!”

Given the relatively short distance to the first target in line, he did not expect to do much damage to the tall, monstrous creatures. Yet the Elves had failed to do all that much either, so he was pretty sure he would at least hit them hard enough to pull aggro. As he watched his Wave Slash rip through the stomach of the leading Maneater and deal 5,214 damage, he was more content than disappointed. The mob, which had been raising its right arm in what Zach estimated to be a downward slash, actually stopped what it was doing, then turned to face him—as did the next one down the line as well as the other two after that one. Now, all four began marching towards him at a speed that was not particularly slow but still not fast enough that he didn’t feel safe taking his eyes off them a moment. Glancing once more in the opposite direction, he was glad to see that he’d pulled the other three behind him as well. So now, as intended, he had all 7 stomping their way towards him. Following a brief moment of hesitation, the Elvish warriors appeared to regain their composure and take off after the Fundead Shockers, which truly were the bigger threat.

Unleashed Phase Duration

2:25 Remaining

“Do I even need to fight these things?” Zach asked himself aloud. “They’re not that fast. Heh. I wonder if I could just run around in circles while they keep following me.” Though he spoke those words to himself more as a tension-relieving joke than as a serious self-suggestion, his eyebrows raised to the top of his face as he realized it might actually not be the worst idea. “Whoah! Has anyone ever thought to do that before?”

Zach half puckered his lips in amazement as he realized the potential of the idea he just had. Mobs, generally, were stupid and brainless, and there were probably so many ways of manipulating them to make one’s life easier. If he wanted to—especially given the open space now that most of the horde had backed away to make room for the Fundead Shockers—Zach could literally run back to the base of the hill, then slip behind the Blood-Hunting Maneaters before running back again. He could basically take these things out of the fight completely while avoiding all risk to himself. Had other adventurers ever thought to fool mobs that way before? Surely they had, right?

“That’s called kiting,” Queen Vayra said, confirming to Zach that this was by no means a novel idea. She stroked the hair of the traumatized Elvish girl with one hand while tending to her wounds with the other. “It’s an extremely common tactic used when other forms of crowd control prove insufficient.”

Though her words were helpful, instructive, and likely true, her tone as she spoke them was cold, dark, and malicious. Despite having just saved a young Elvish girl the same age as her daughter, Fylwen showed no appreciation whatsoever and now glared at Zach with an intense hatred and disgust that made him begin to fear her more than the seven mobs stomping their way towards him. She whispered into the Elvish girl’s ear, and abruptly, the wounded girl fell asleep. Then Fylwen stood up, straightened her back, and narrowed her eyes at Zach. “Kiting them may be the wisest decision. Unless you think you can last a whole forty seconds against seven of those large beasts.”

Zach laughed of all things. “That’s a minute less than I had to last against something way, way worse, Miss Vayra.”

“Queen Vayra,” she corrected.

“Ahh…yeah, sorry, my bad.”

In the distance, Zach watched as every Fundead Shocker ceased charging up their fatal electrical attack and instead began to flee from the pursuing Elves, which in turn caused the far, far, far larger horde of Roller-Ghasts to also begin skating backwards as well as if to make room for their retreat; this, as the seven Blood-Hunting Maneaters marched closer and closer to Zach’s position. Yet, even despite the danger they imposed, he could not stop himself from once more pulling his attention away from the approaching threat to instead regard Fylwen Vayra, the Elvish queen. Something was changing in the woman’s expression; it was gradually darkening, and Zach was beginning to feel increasingly more unsettled. Her scowl was deepening, too, and the intensity of the hate was growing to the point where Zach didn’t see how she could still possibly deny it. Surprisingly, though, for the first time since meeting her, she didn’t.

“This hate…” she said softly. “It is not for you, young man.”

“It’s not?” Zach asked, generally perplexed.

With ease, he leaned backwards, ducked, and then spun around three successive slashes from the first Blood-Hunting Maneater to reach him. Then he retaliated with a vicious slash of his own, striking its knees with such force that he managed to sever both of its legs and incapacitate it right off the bat. The eight-foot-tall monster, now unable to stand, fell forward and slammed down onto the grass with a thud and a growl while each leg flew off in an opposite direction.

“No,” she whispered, peering out at him like a hawk watching prey. “It’s for me.”

Zach wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so instead, he turned his attention to the downed Blood-Hunting Maneater. Despite still having three quarters of its HP remaining, the legless, blade-armed fiend was clearly no longer a threat. Even still, having arrived just a bit ahead of the other six, Zach had enough time to finish it off—but not before being forced to drop all the way down to his knees to avoid the battle-axe of an errant skeleton-horse-riding mummy, which for some reason felt like taking a random shot at him as it darted past him while flying low to the ground. Annoyed, Zach was glad to see Fluffles swoop down a second later and rip both the horse and its rider to pieces in the corner of his eyes.

“Mummy stupid!” Fluffles shouted, his voice deep and booming in his transformed form.

Now, pointing his blade downwards, Zach placed his left fist over and above his right on the sword’s hilt, then bent his knees and thrust downwards with all his strength into the back of the monster’s skull with enough force that it pierced straight through. Yet that still did not finish it off. Undaunted, he ripped his weapon free and shook away some of the blood and brain matter before launching two more hacking, downward strikes with the first taking its head half off, and the second fully decapitating it. Even headless, it still growled as it vanished into a void of nothingness while a sound that was eerily like that of an electric vacuum cleaner accompanied its disappearance.

+5000xp

“You seem to be handling those just fine,” Queen Vayra said, stepping away from the sleeping Elvish girl. Her bleeding had thankfully stopped, and though she was missing an arm, she was resting peacefully—at least for the moment. “Can you move these unsightly things a bit further away from her?”

“Uh, sure,” Zach said, deflecting a series of bladed-arm strikes from two of the large, lumbering creatures. He jumped over a sneaky, but otherwise futile attempt to sever his own two legs from the monster’s left arm, which came at him at a low, lopsided angle.

Honestly, he was beginning to think of these Blood-Hunting Maneaters in the way that he’d come to think of those “Aggrieved Scarecrow” mobs that had seemed so threatening the first time he’d been to this planet with Rian and Lienne. They, like these, were imposing, frightening-looking mobs that had very powerful attacks while also having some even more powerful weaknesses. In all honesty, Zach was starting to find these creatures to be the least threatening of the vampire’s forces. It would be an entirely different story if they, too, had roller skates or could move a little faster. But as things were, they simply were not that much of a threat to him. By staying agile on his feet, he found that he could easily keep two or three of them near him at a time while the rest trailed behind. Full-on kiting wasn’t even necessary. In fact, he deliberately put himself in their way for no other reason than to gain experience points and because he found their oddly angled attacks to be good practice. Before long, he managed to kill a second—well, technically third one.

+5000xp

LEVEL UP!

17 (16)

Dexterity

+1 (65)

Intelligence

+1 (105)

XP Required for Level 18

65000

(LEGENDARY NON-UNIQUE) Card Capture Acquired

(LEGENDARY NON-UNIQUE) Card Summon Acquired

(LEGENDARY NON-UNIQUE) Card Dismiss Acquired

“Whoah,” Zach said aloud while he twisted his body to avoid a lunging forward-thrust from the arm of the mob in front of him. “What’s a ‘legendary non-unique?’” he asked as he dashed backwards to keep from being surrounded by the remaining five enemies.

Fylwen’s eyes seemed to bulge with rage at the question. “That term describes the acquisition of a very, very rare—but not unique—ability.” Her eyes narrowed even more. “I’m guessing you picked up a new ‘trick?’”

Zach tried not to buckle from the intensity of Fylwen’s gaze. The uneasiness she was causing him was steadily growing the closer his Unleashed Phase came to ending. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone who sent such contempt-ridden stares his way was someone he really shouldn’t be trusting: or rather “have trusted” would be the more accurate thing to say: he shouldn’t have trusted her. But that was no longer really an issue, was it? Because he had trusted her. The “trusting” part was already done. Yet with each passing second, it started to really dawn on him just how serious this situation was. Going off nothing but her word alone—the word of a complete stranger—he had done something to himself that would mean instant death if her promise turned out to be false. His life was quite literally in her hands. Thus, the way she looked upon him like he was some kind of parasite…it didn’t do much to boost his confidence.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied to Fylwen, which only caused her frown to deepen. He had the sense that maybe he shouldn’t be telling her these things. In fact, he’d had that sense for a while now. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that literally all of the trust he had in her was predicated solely on the fact that she was the mother of the love of his life. Yet, as she questioned him, her angry, bitter, and demanding tone left little doubt in Zach’s mind that she would not handle it well if he neglected to answer her questions.

As Fylwen’s temperament and the promise she’d made to him became a bigger and bigger concern, Zach was forced to split his attention between the Elvish queen and the enemies that relentlessly stomped on towards him, such as the Blood-Hunting Maneater directly ahead of his position that thought it was being cute by half-turning away—as if Zach had lost its aggro—only to abruptly turn back around and take a wide, explosively powerful shot at him with its left, bladed arm; the slow, but ruthless creature swung at him with so much strength that the force of it caused the mob to lose its balance and nearly fall over. For all his additional armor and constitution, Zach had the sense that, even if such an attack somehow didn’t kill him outright, it would still very seriously wound him if it connected. So it was a good thing, then, that all it took to evade the massive but reckless blow was to simply bend backwards and shift his weight slightly off his front foot. As he leaned away from the blow, he extended his sword in front of himself and allow the oversized, repugnant, monster to slice its own self on his blade as it stumbled to the side, ripping open a section of its stomach and dealing 4,211 damage.

“I must admit, young man, you have a penchant for acquiring some rather useful abilities.”

Even with its stomach sliced open and leaking a yellowish fluid in addition to hemorrhaging more dark red blood, the Maneater regained its balance and growled loudly at him. But it did not attack: no, it would have to wait its turn. The one behind greedily ambled towards Zach, who bent his knees and raised his arms above his shoulders while pointing the blade forward in a two-handed grip, ready for whatever it had to bring.

“Ah, thanks,” he said, hoping his uncertainty and growing distrust did not leak through in his voice.

“Indulge my curiosity," she said. "What ability did you just acquire?" Though she spoke her words at barely above a whisper, the intensity in them resounded far louder than if she’d shouted.

Zach felt acid entering his belly as his nerves took hold of him. Given that he now had only around two minutes left on his current duration of Unleashed Phase, he was again reminded of the fact that he was going to have to rely on this woman to save his life: the woman who clearly had something against him despite never having met him before. Given those facts, Queen Fylwen Vayra was not the kind of person Zach wanted to upset right now, yet no matter what he said or didn’t say, the result always seemed to be the same: an increase in the bitterness he could feel radiating off her.

Second by second, Zach’s E-debt came closer to being due. And when the only person in the world who could stop him from kicking the bucket was glaring at him like she wanted him to die…yeah, that was not comforting. In fact, Zach was so offput by her overall disposition that he made a mistake and failed to raise his guard in time as a Blood-Hunting Maneater growled and went for his head. If not for quick reflexes and an even quicker pivot on his heels, he would have had part of his face ripped off by a horizontal slash from one of the bladed arms of “Blood-Hunting Maneater H.”

“What ability have you acquired?” she asked again. She was following swiftly alongside him as he ducked, weaved, and repositioned himself so that he was never surrounded by the mobs even as he engaged with and fought back against them. Despite seeing him nearly lose his head just now, Fylwen showed no visible sign of concern for his wellbeing and instead continued to question him about his new abilities. “Are you ignoring me, young man? I asked you what ability you acquired.”

Buried deep in her tone, Zach was positive he could detect a hint of desperation; yet she concealed it so well that he almost wasn’t sure it was there at all. But along with the way her eyes were seemingly locked on him, as well as the mere fact that she asked him the same irrelevant question for the third straight time in a row, he could no longer deny that there was a very real urgency to her questioning. And it was this realization that caused Zach’s entire body to become tense, his eyes to go wide, and his heart to beat faster as, at long last, everything began to fall into place, and a wave of understanding slammed into him like a train. It was only now, as the last moments of this surreal, otherworldly battle played out to its conclusion, that everything finally clicked in his mind. And as it did, Zach cursed himself for being too slow to see it until now.

He was surprised and ashamed it had taken him this long to put it together. But in fairness to himself, there had been far too much going on around him to see things clearly. Honestly, if not for the fact that most of his attention had been placed on surviving this battle and saving the lives of her people, he would have realized it way sooner. Because now he knew, didn’t he? Yes. Yes, he did. He knew it now. He knew the reason why she was angry with him: why she was disgusted with him. Why she gazed upon him with such intense dislike. He understood it all now—and it was so, so simple, too. It was so incredibly, painfully obvious. It was something he should have deduced straight away.

She hated him for one reason and one reason alone: because she viewed him as a threat. She, a woman whose entire life had been defined by the pain and suffering humans had inflicted upon her, viewed him as some kind of existential threat to her and all of her people. And it was all because of Fluffles and that dog. All because some cute but dumb animals’ proclaiming that Zach was more powerful—or rather would become more powerful—than she herself was. That had really been the moment everything had changed, hadn’t it? It had been just after Chumpkenwiffles’ nonsense “appraisal” that Queen Vayra had become threatened by his very existence. That was what this was about. For sure, that was the root of all this. But he couldn’t blame himself for not noticing sooner. How could he? He’d been thrust totally unprepared into a war between vampires, the Elvish people, and zombies. But now, at least, he finally understood.

This is all because of some laughably stupid bullshit said by a talking dog and a talking cat, Zach thought, shaking his head. Even as he deflected two different attacks from two different Blood-Hunting Maneaters at the exact same time, he continued to reflect on her gradually worsening treatment of him—but he was soon taken from his thoughts as her voice became louder and more demanding, drawing his attention once more to her hateful gaze that now seemed permanently fixated on him.

“Can you not hear me?” she asked sharply.

“S-sorry!” Zach replied, bowing his head first in apology, but then a second time to avoid decapitation. Caught off guard, he found himself in a bit of trouble and had to throw himself at the grassy ground and back-roll away from danger before springing up to his feet and whirling his blade around to block several incoming strikes from three different Blood-Hunting Maneaters at once. “I was concentrating.”

“I’ve asked you several times now: what ability did you just acquire?”

Zach really, really didn’t want to tell her. Now that he understood what was going on in her head—as stupid and unbelievable as it was—the last thing he wanted to do was say something to make himself seem even more of a threat. Right now, only one thing in this entire world could keep him from death, and that one thing was this woman. And now she was asking him a question that could totally backfire on him depending on how he answered.

Biting the corner of his lip, Zach said, “Just something about a uh…”

“A what?” she asked, her tone implying there was no room for Zach to wiggle out of answering this.

The craziest part of all of this was that, having no idea himself what his new abilities did, Zach now actually had to hope and pray to the Gods that whatever he’d just acquired was a useless piece of shit. How messed up was that? He actually had to hope that his new abilities sucked.

I should’ve just kept on walking to B4, he thought. This is what I get for trying to be a good guy. Fuck me, man. May the Gods damn all of it!

Zach actually lowered his guard a moment just so that he could shrug, a gesture he hoped would convey a feeling of non-excitement regarding his new abilities. But he could only half-complete the gesture, as he had to immediately raise his weapon as fast as he could to parry an attack from the Blood-Hunting Maneater opposite him before returning with three blazing-fast strikes of his own, cutting off a section of the monster’s face and a piece of its shoulder.

“Something about what?” Fylwen asked again. “Speak!”

“Uh, you know, just…just something about a, uh…a card?” Zach said casually, trying to downplay whatever ability he’d unlocked. He hoped his words did not ring a bell in her head, or at least if they did, that they would not cause her any further alarm or distress. But since he hadn’t had the chance to examine whatever he’d acquired, there was no way he could try to guess how she’d react. Hell, not only did he not know what he’d earned, but he couldn’t even recall the names of the abilities or say for sure if it had been two or three new ones he’d gotten. He was only sure it was more than one. Other than that, he knew absolutely nothing. But Queen Vayra? Well, to his utter misfortune, she seemed to know. Oh, she seemed to know all right. And it took less than a fraction of a fraction of a second for Zach to see that she was not happy about it.

Her eyes widened, her lips quivered, and she mouthed a word in Elvish he did not know while she slowly shook her head and briefly averted her gaze. Clearly, the answer he’d given her was not the one she’d wanted to hear. “Card capture?” she asked him. “Was that the name of it? And was it accompanied by two other abilities: one to summon and one to dismiss?”

Swallowing nervously, Zach wet his lips and said, “Ah…yeah, maybe. I think so, anyway. I mean, I didn’t really get a good enough look, but I think that’s what I saw.”

Zach felt a nervous pinch of apprehension in his stomach as Fylwen actually stomped her foot on the ground like an angry child, then shouted, “So now you can Card Summon, too?”

“I guess.”

Again, she shook her head. “But…but how?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Why don’t I know? Or why can I card summon—uh, whatever the hell that even is.”

“Both.”

Zach dashed backwards, then lurched forward, ducked, and finally deftly spun around to the side of “Blood-Hunting Maneater H” and delivered a quick, efficient finishing blow, earning himself +5000xp in the process—and something else, as well. The moment the mob faded out of existence, a blue, shining light on the grass caught Zach’s eye. It came from the spot the creature had died.

Loot!

Even in spite of everything going on around him, Zach’s greedy, loot-loving nature manifested itself so thoroughly that he momentarily forgot the way his girlfriend’s mother was staring daggers at him. But given that she was already irritated with him—even though it was for a totally stupid reason—he did not want to make things worse by looking heartless or like the kind of person that would prioritize loot over saving lives. And so, to play it safe, he waited until one of the Blood-Hunting Maneaters launched an attack that required him to evade by ducking down. Then, putting himself low to the ground, Zach quickly snatched up what looked like a golden ring of some kind with silver writing inscribed on it. He clearly lacked the time to even so much as take a peek at it let alone appraise the item, so instead, he stuffed it inside the single pocket on the right side of his Decaying Leggings of the Undying and decided to leer at it later. The fact that the light was blue, if memory served him correctly, meant that this item was a “rare.” If not for Fylwen setting off a rapidly growing feeling of alarm and danger, Zach would be so giddy right now he’d have to force himself not to start dancing right here on the battlefield.

Returning his attention to Queen Vayra—and only partially focusing on dealing with his pursuing enemies as he slowly led them back and away towards the base of the hill he’d rolled down—he realized that the woman was still staring at him demandingly as if waiting for him to answer her question.

“The truth is I don’t know the answers to your questions,” he said. “In the name of the Gods, I swear I don’t even know what a card summon is.” As she bared her teeth at him, he realized he could no longer mentally take the pressure. His panic and paranoia were becoming too strong. He knew he had to finally address this whole thing with her.

“Look, can I be honest with you, Miss Va—ahh, Queen Vayra?”

“Please do,” she said.

Zach stirred uneasily on his feet as his suspicion and paranoia increased. “I’m pretty sure I know now why you…I know why you look at me like that.”

“You do?” she asked. She then took her eyes off him—but only for the briefest of moments. Zach craned his neck to see what she was looking at. It seemed the Fundead Shockers were still on the run, but now the Fundead Roller Ghasts were once more plowing forward. This had the positive effect of blocking the Fundead Shockers from being able to target the Elves, but at the same time, it also caused the Elves to once again be swarmed by an uncountable number of decaying, rotten, and roller-skating zombies, which was basically a complete reset back to what the situation had been at the start of the battle. The only difference now, however—and to be fair, it was certainly a big difference—was that time was now on the side of the Elves as they began to back away in Zach’s direction, seemingly avoiding combat altogether as the Fundead Roller-Ghasts chased them. Not that it mattered anymore. Having already lost all the space that they’d claimed at the start of the fight, the Fundead Roller-Ghasts did not have the time they would need to chase the Elves all the way back to the base of the absurdly tall hill. The end was now plainly in sight.

Thus, for all intents and purposes, the battle had been won. The debuffed Elves were now down to their final seconds of weakness, and in just a few moments, the curse would expire and they would all regain their strength. Whoever this vampire-person was or whatever he’d been intending to do, he had failed. His minions, however, did not seem to be aware of that—particularly this Blood-Hunting Maneater that was aggressively bearing down on Zach.

With two powerful movements, Zach swung his sword up and to the left, knocking aside one of its bladed arms that was slicing down at him. Then he slashed his weapon through the air in the opposite direction, batting away its opposing limb. Finally, he stepped forward and rammed his blade through the monster’s chest. There was a disgusting crunch as the sword plunged deep into his foe and inflicted 5,008 points of damage while also causing the large, eight-foot-tall creature to become put off balance.

Wasting not a moment, Zach quickly yanked the blade out of the Maneater’s body, slightly bent his knees, and then, with great speed and even greater force, he whirled his body around in a full circle while springing back up and extending both of his arms, spin-slashing the head of the Blood-Hunting Maneater right off its shoulders and earning him another +5000xp. The monster’s head landed on the grass only a few inches ahead of where he himself landed. Venting some of his frustrations, Zach skipped forward a few steps and kicked it away like it was a ball in gym class. Along with the rest of its body, the head began to vanish midair, but not before it collided with the head of the Blood-Hunting Maneater behind it, bouncing immediately back off and dealing 3 damage. It then fell back down towards the grass, disappearing entirely a split second before landing a second time.

“I do,” Zach confirmed. “I get it.” The skepticism was plain on her face as her cheeks scrunched slightly and her brow furrowed. With a sigh, he said, “I just want you to know that Kal…Kalana, she told me about, you know, what it was like for her as a little girl.”

“Did she?”

He nodded. “I know what happened to you is something so terrible I can’t ever understand it.”

“That’s right,” Fylwen said with heat in her voice. “You couldn’t. But why mention this to me?”

Zach squeezed his hands more tightly on his sword, though it was not for the sake of getting a better grip on the weapon, but in an attempt to gain control of the very rapidly increasing sense of worry and suspicion he was feeling. “Queen Vayra, I…”

“Hm?”

He drew a breath, held it a moment, then released it. “I really, really love Kalana. Your daughter. She’s everything in this entire world to me. If she wasn’t alive, I don’t even know if I’d want to be. I know you probably think I’m too young to say this so confidently, but she’s the one. I’ll never love anyone like I do her.”

Upon his words, a tiny, nearly imperceptible degree of softness entered Fylwen’s expression, only to then vanish just as quickly as it had appeared. “Why tell me this?”

“Because…” Zach swallowed fearfully. He had to work hard to stave off the panic growing within him: the doubt that was near to the point of making him tremble. “Because I…I’m starting to worry you might go back on your word. I mean no disrespect—I swear I don’t. I just have this really scary feeling right now that you maybe lied to me or something.”

For the first time, Queen Vayra’s scowl left her face, and in her eyes, Zach could now see only mistrust, hurt, defiance, and even a degree of confusion. He could see something else, too. Something that she likely carried with her always: the pain of a woman whose people had been slaughtered by the hundreds right in front of her. If half the things Kal had told him about her upbringing were true, then Queen Vayra had lived a horrible, traumatizing life.

“I didn’t lie to you,” she said after a pause that lasted only a few seconds but felt like a few lifetimes.

Feeling just a slight lessening of fear—though not at a level enough to be reassured—Zach wet his lips and asked, “So you’re going to heal me, right? Because you promised me that if I helped you, you would.”

“I meant what I said,” she confirmed, causing Zach to sigh with relief as he continued to fight. His muscles, which had tensed almost to the point of locking up, had once again relaxed, and he felt as if a great weight had been pulled off his shoulders. Relief flooded into him like a river, and he felt like he could breathe again. A return of positive feelings and general optimism lifted his spirits. His mood was well and truly restored—for all of about two whole seconds before it all came crashing and burning down.

His relief turned out to be incredibly short-lived, as less than a moment after she spoke those words, she lifted her chin and met Zach’s eyes unblinkingly. Then, with an icy, unremorseful, and yet eerily conversational tone, she said something to him: something that knocked the air out of his chest as though it were a physical blow. Something that caused an explosion of pure terror to materialize within him. Something that gripped him so tightly that it paralyzed him.

“I meant what I said,” she repeated, “…when I said it.”

“Meaning what exactly?” Zach angrily shouted as she returned his gaze with a cold, merciless stare. “What do you mean by that? Tell me! Hey, dammit! What do you mean by that?”

Her only reply was to continue to watch him through eyes that did not seem to blink. Even though Zach had answered all of her questions, she did not grant him the decency of answering his. Although…that wasn’t entirely true either, was it? No, he knew exactly what she meant. If not, he would not be suffering from such a sinking feeling of all-consuming dread. The implication of those four words was as clear as day, and she wasn’t even attempting to hide it, either. The reason she did not answer him was most likely because no actual reply was needed: her words and, even more so, her eyes, spoke clearly enough.

What have I just done? Zach thought to himself as his knees weakened and it all really began to sink in. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. I’m…I’m not going to be okay, am I? I fucked up really, really badly. Oh, Gods. What did I do? What the fuck did I do?

Two things happened in that moment, and both occurred at the exact same time. First, Zach felt a shot of fear pierce him like a bullet. He felt as though he had just been pushed off a building and was entering freefall. His heart leapt in his chest, butterflies raced in his stomach, and his throat went dry with shock. He became so paralyzed with disbelief, hurt, and a self-loathing at his own stupidity, that he completely lost his ability to defend himself from the last three Blood-hunting Maneaters that surrounded and advanced towards him.

As Zach processed her words and the implications of what she was saying, he lost all motivation to fight or even defend himself. He was buried beneath the sensation of having one’s worst fears and creeping suspicions confirmed. It was the shame of hindsight. It was a ringing chorus in his head of the words “she can’t possibly,” and “she’s doesn’t really mean.” For these reasons, he had become completely defenseless, though at least on that front, it no longer mattered, because in the same instant, the debuff on Fylwen and her people finally wore off.

And then…

Then Zach really understood what it meant to be powerful.

Amid his shock, he only witnessed a fraction of it. Just a small fraction. Yet even if he had been paying a great deal of attention, what followed happened so fast that he still would have only caught a glimpse of it. To say that the restored Elvish warriors dealt with the vampire’s forces “quickly” just wouldn’t cut it. In fact, there were no words to describe the onslaught of power and rage that transformed the entire battlefield in a time only slightly longer than the blink of an eye. Right here, right in front of him, he was shown a display of such fantastic, overwhelming strength that it now made perfect sense why the Elves did not bother perfecting their skills with a sword: with this kind of raw, unfathomable power, they had no need.

Everywhere and anywhere around him, there came light, sound, and flashes of movement. That much, Zach was sure of—even if much of that movement was too fast for him to follow. Unicorn-riding Elves whipped across the sky at such intense speeds they left streaks of fire behind in the air. Large pops not unlike firecrackers only dramatically louder buried every other sound. Numbers began popping up in the sky. Damage numbers. Numbers in the hundreds of thousands: a few even in the millions. And then it rained. It rained horse bones, bandages, and ooze. And as it rained, there was a loud, snap-like crack. In the very corner of Zach’s vision, he saw the gigantic, several-story-tall “Flesh Scrubber” mob broken apart into thousands of pieces. Or at least he thought he did. So much was happening everywhere and all at once that his brain could not interpret this much data this fast and retain it all.

He was sure he saw Fylwen’s entire body glow. That much, he had high confidence in. He was also sure she screamed and unleashed some kind of reddish energy that expanded outwards and around and stretched to become miles long and all-encompassing within just a few seconds. But was he absolutely, one-hundred-percent sure that it was that reddish, barrier-like energy that caused hundreds—no, thousands—of the Fundead Roller-Ghasts to disintegrate into little piles of dust? Not even ooze, but dust. Even those that were currently being cut down by Elvish swords were wiped away like some kind of punitive act from a vengeful God.

And then there were the Fundead Shockers. Zach couldn’t even be certain that what he saw in the opposite corner of his other eye was reality. But from the immensely loud explosions, along with a heat he could feel even from all the way over here, it genuinely did appear that an entire grouping of flaming, boulder-sized meteorites were being summoned from the sky and slammed down onto the Fundead Shockers, dealing hundreds of thousands of damage and causing the entire world to shake. There was so much more, too. So much that Zach either didn’t see, couldn’t see, or couldn’t understand. And through it all, he was left standing there, shaking, in total disbelief that he had been betrayed by Kalana’s mother. He was so distraught with feelings of rage, misery, and even self-guilt that none of the explosive sounds or sights even startled him. He was lost in a trance of his own, one that he snapped out of only as he saw the duration remaining on his Unleashed Phase drop below one minute.

This, he came to understand, was an entirely different terror than the one he felt during his fight with Ziragoth. This was the sense of impending doom. It wasn’t the traumatic, heart-destroying fear that was caused by actively fighting for one’s life and dying in the process. There was no massive adrenaline rush or fight or flight response. Rather, this was a much more ominous, slow, and torturous sensation of knowing that your imminent death had already been decided, and your only choice was to wait for it to happen. The level of despair and hopelessness…it was too much to bear.

Zach felt weak. His knees felt like they would give at any time. His head was beginning to fog up. Yet for all he was worth, he fought to hold back the tears, wanting to keep at least some of his dignity intact. This was not the first time he’d felt this way: it was merely the most severe. He’d experienced this once before after fighting Moldark the Unbanished. Then, too, he had stood around waiting for his death after pushing himself too far. But at least he’d had Rian and Lienne there with him. And a hope that someone might somehow possibly save him.

No one is coming for me this time, he thought, trembling.

In no time at all, the carnage was over. It ended so quickly that Zach didn’t even realize he was now completely surrounded by the Elves until he heard their voices. Were they standing around him and waiting for him to die? Did they need to see it with their own eyes to be sure they got him? To Zach’s surprise, when he looked upon their faces, most of them returned glances that, as opposed to being filled with malice, were filled instead with worry and confusion. Fluffles was there, too, and as he brushed against Zach’s leg, he let out a concern-filled meow.

“What wrong, Zach?” his cat asked. “We win. And now you give me tuna! You promise Fluffles. You say Fluffles get to eat two-million cans!”

All at once, many of the green- and white-cloaked Elves approached to thank and praise him. “Well done, kid,” one of the green-cloaked Elves said, giving him a pat on the back. “This was a tough day for all of us. I can see you’ve got post-battle jitters. That’s all right. Many of us do.”

“I will never forget your kindness and what you have done for us,” another said. “Truly, you are—”

“Please!” he begged, ignoring all of them and focusing all of his attention on Queen Vayra. He looked her directly in the eyes, and she did the same to him. Zach’s voice caught in his throat as he tried to form words, so he had to shake his head and try a second time as the fear of death made it difficult to speak. “Please,” he said again, this time in a whisper. “I don’t want to die. Please. Please don’t do this to me. I’m begging you. I trusted you. You were going to die, and I saved your life. I saved their lives, too. didn’t have to do this. I didn’t have to help any of you. How can you do this to another person? How do you even…how can you do something like this and not hate yourself!”

Her expression became blank. All trace of emotion left her face. There was no anger, sadness, or regret. She was as blank as a white canvas. “Because I have to,” she said.

Once again, the Elves surprised him by shooting him questioning glances as they looked back and forth between Zach and Queen Vayra. It was in this moment that it occurred to Zach that these Elvish men and women, both in the green and in the white, had absolutely no idea whatsoever what was going on, did they? No. They genuinely did not seem to know! Yet as though sensing that something had gone terribly wrong, they began to approach Zach and offer words of concern and consolation.

They don’t know!

In a final, last-ditch act of desperation, Zach raised his voice and addressed them directly, trying to appeal to their sense of decency. Like before, he tried to stem the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes. He held them back as best as he could. Extending his arm, he pointed at Fylwen while keeping his head scanning the faces of the Elves that were crowding around him.

“I didn’t have you help you,” he said to them, his voice beginning to break. He paused a moment and tried really, really hard to steady himself. “I didn’t. I chose to do it.”

“We thank you, human,” one of the green-cloaked Elves said. “But why are—”

“SHE PROMISED!" Zach screamed at the top of his lungs at a volume louder than he'd ever used before or even knew he was capable. "She promised me! She promised she'd save me if I saved all of you!”

“Save…you?”

He nodded, unable to stop himself from baring his teeth at Fylwen in abject misery. “I used an ability that I knew would kill me if I did it. I used it because Queen Vayra, she…she said that if I did it, she’d heal me. She told me to use it to save you all, and then when it was over, she’d…” His voice dropped on its own as he shivered and said, “she…she said she could heal me. But now she won’t, and I’ve only got less than a minute to live.” Now, with far more emotion in his voice than he intended, he pleaded with the Elves. “I know it’s cowardly to beg. I know it’s not brave. But please. PLEASE! I don’t want to die. I’m only here because you guys needed help. Please don’t do this to me. I don't want to die. I don't want to die! I saved you. I risked my life for yours, and I didn't have to.” He pointed to the mother and daughter he’d used Phase Rescue to save. “So why would she do this to me?” Now, at last, tears did find their way into his eyes. He’d held out for so, so long. “Are you all just completely evil? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Zach fell down to his knees, feeling hopeless and alone. “Why would you do this to me?”

His time ticked down as the Elves all stared at him in complete silence, saying nothing. Yet it was only because of the rush of fear and despair that he could not get a read on their emotions. He had no idea if they were any better than their queen, and to be honest, he doubted it. But then, after another few seconds had come on and gone, at last a woman wearing a green cloak turned her head to her queen and said, “This is not true, is it, my queen? Surely it cannot be.”

Fylwen closed her eyes a moment. Then she reopened them and said, “Can't it, Anlithira?”

The Elvish woman recoiled, bending backwards slightly. “What are you saying, Your Majesty? Is the human boy telling the truth?”

Zach expected Fylwen to lie. He expected her to deny the accusation. Instead, to his amazement, she outright admitted it. “Yes, it’s true,” she said. “But you all saw for yourself how dangerous this boy is. You all know what humans have done to our people.” She shook her head. “We would all sleep better in a world that he is not a part of.”

The reaction from the Elves to her words came as another genuine surprise—and quite possibly the last surprise of his life. Immediately following the queen’s casual, almost “matter-of-factly” confession, the response from the Elvish warriors, both those who had fought on the ground with Zach, and the rest who were only now landing near him on their unicorn mounts, was nothing short of pure, utter, total, and completely unrelenting outrage. An eruption of repulsion and condemnation occurred as the Elvish people inexhaustibly displayed a level of disgust that was so intense Zach could scarcely believe they would display it openly before their monarch.

All around him, men and women who were clearly just as shocked as himself began shouting and in some cases outright screaming at their queen. The white-cloaks in particular exploded into such a state of uproar that several of the green cloaks were nervously lowering their hands down to their swords as though they feared a fight could break out. Though the white-cloaked Elves spoke using a form of speech that did not always make sense to Zach, the passion and disgust in their voice still managed to convey one of the most intense dressing downs of another person that Zach had ever witnessed in his soon-to-be ending life. They demanded to know how anyone, let alone a queen, could conduct herself with such appalling treachery and indecency.

“My decisions are not yours to question,” Queen Fylwen said calmly. But now, in a way that was hidden but still noticeable, there was a small degree of emotion that broke through her words. She placed her right hand on her chest. “I love each and every one of you. But this is final. I am sorry to say it must be so, but this boy is a threat. My Shadowfang appraised his strength. He poses a threat: a true, and terrifying threat! So hear me: I decree that what happens to him is what happens to him. But try to understand that I am not striking him down by my hand. He will die, yes, but he will die consumed by the debt of the flames he himself has stoked.”

"The flames, Your Majesty, that you invoked him to call upon!" shouted a tall, wide-eyed Elven warrior.

"To save you all, I did. Yes."

Her words did not sit well with either the green or the white cloaked Elvish folk, all of whom loudly demanded that she save Zach’s life or else live with a mark of shame. And when the queen refused, they became even louder and more agitated. Many of them even began bringing religion into the mix, calling upon the names of various Elvish Gods and Goddesses to accuse her of treason against the heavens. From the way they were so quick to snap at someone who was their literal queen, Zach had the sense that this was not one-hundred percent due to her actions towards him. To the contrary, it was beginning to look like this was far from Fylwen’s first act of ugliness that they’d taken issue with. It almost seemed like her betrayal of Zach was just the back-breaking straw that popped some kind of bubble that had been growing for a long time among them. Or maybe not. Who knew? He’d never find out either way, would he?

Fluffles hissed and joined in on the loud berating of the Elvish queen. “Stupid Elf lady! Zach not die. You are wrong and stupid. Right, Zach?” He meowed, loudly. His confusion and panic were evident in the sound of it. “Zach? Make promise. Make promise!”

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I’m dead in…” His voice broke, and he closed his eyes to hide his shame as it ran down his face. “I die in ten seconds,” he somehow managed to say. Then he spoke the last words he could bring himself to form. “Fluffles, you have to tell Kalana that I'm sorry. I was so stupid. I acted without thinking. Make sure she knows I love her. Please, Fluffles.”

Although it was only a very small comfort, if nothing else, he at least did not have to die completely alone with no one by his side. Just then, two Elvish women, one in a white cloak, and one in a green, each came over to him, and both held his hands while the end approached. “I’m so sorry,” said the green-cloaked woman. She was the one Zach had saved along with her daughter. “Human boy, I am truly so sorry. This isn’t what we are. It’s what she is. I’m so sorry. Please forgive us. Please. You saved my child's life. I will live with the pain of what she did to you for all my days.”

Almost as if reacting to the word itself, a pain detonated inside of him: intense, terrible pain. Zach clutched his heart, which began to ache with unbearable ferocity. It was the greatest sensation of pain that he had ever before felt in his life. But at the same time, it was also brief: very, very brief. Enough so that he only had to endure it for a few seconds. Then the pain dulled, and instead, it was replaced by a sensation of heaviness. Now, it felt like a thousand pounds of weight was sitting on both his shoulders: like there was an elephant on his chest and another on his back, crushing him. It was so heavy that he found it impossible to remain upright. He tried to breathe, but he couldn’t. His lungs failed him. He tried to beg, but still, he couldn’t. His words failed him, too. He collapsed forward onto his face. He was terrified. He was so, so scared. He’d come close to death before. But never this close. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He never should’ve left his hospital room. Kalana wasn’t going to be able to handle this. His Kalana. He was so sorry. He failed her. He failed her…

Now, there was only darkness. Just darkness. Did he exist? Was he in the afterlife? Why was there nothing but darkness and absolute quiet? He was alone. Totally, completely alone. No, wait. No! No! There was in fact something else with him. It was there, deeper into that darkness—rather, beyond the darkness. There was a shadow. A specter. A robed figure with no face: a shadow. And that shadow flew over and around him, dancing in the darkness, embracing him like a blanket. It whispered to him, too. “Five years,” it spoke softly into his ear. “Try not to forget this time. I know it's hard, but try. Tell everyone who matters that the World Eater spawns in five years. The proof is in Dragon Squire. You must not forget! This is the most important thing you will ever do. So please: please try not to forget this time. Five years. World Eater. Oh, and Zach? I really hope I don't see you back here a fourth time. Your luck is bound to run out some day.”

Zach coughed weakly. He was confused and afraid. And then he died.

The…End?

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

*****

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Grundor said as he jumped from treetop to treetop carrying a human corpse over his back. He needed to rush. He was running short on time. Those scumbag Elves had taken way too long to leave, and it’d thrown off the entire timetable.

Even still, he could only imagine how cool and heroic he looked right now while he hopped from tree to tree to save the day. Grundor was so amazing. He loved himself! Grundor wondered if it showed how much he’d been working out. Ever since Olivir let him build a gym in their estate, he’d been hitting it nonstop. He doubted there was a single zombie in the history of zombies that had abs like he did. Not even a single one. He got all the zombie pussy. For real!

Okay…fine, maybe not all. But if he wanted it, he’d get it. He was sure of it. He just hadn’t been around that many other sentient zombies yet. But trust Grundor: as soon as he came across one (assuming she was hot) Grundor was going to be on that so fast you have no idea. It would be instant.

“Ugly zombie-man go faster!” the black-and-white cat shouted at him. “I say hurry!” The cat meowed and frantically shifted positions as if having spotted something important in the distance. “Oooh! Birdie! Zombie not worry. I will protect!”

A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, and Grundor let out a grunt of surprise as an innocent, beautiful, and exotic rainbow-colored bird fell out of the air, smoke rising from its charred body. It continued to fall until it disappeared somewhere below the tree line.

“Birdie die. So now you go faster,” Fluffles demanded. “I save ugly zombie man from birdie, so now ugly zombie man have to run faster.”

Grundor frowned and lifted his eyes. He could only just see the tail of the cat that was sitting on his head, hitching a ride as he raced back to his master. He paused for a moment, glancing behind him to ensure he wasn’t being followed. He really did need to hurry. The kiddo only had about four minutes left.

“What’d you say your name was again?” he asked.

“Fluffles,” the cat said with an impatient meow. “Where vampire? Why zombie man not hurrying? I want tuna and chicken, too. You better feed Fluffles when we go to vampire man. I starving!”

“I’m going fast, kitty cat,” Grundor said. “I’m just being careful.”

Satisfied that no one was tailing him, Grundor leapt off his haunches and soared forward, landing with perfect balance on the topmost branch of the next tree. Spotting a familiar landmark—three mysteriously gold-colored trees—he knew he was going to make it in time, and so he relaxed a bit and made conversation.

“So, anyways, she betrayed you guys too, right?”

Fluffles hissed, and Grundor could sense a deep revulsion and hate in the sound of it. “Fluffles hate Elves now. Fluffles like Elves before, but now I hate!”

“They’re not all bad,” Grundor said. “But yeah, Queen Vayra’s a bitch. You should hear what she did to Master! Don’t worry, kitty cat. Uncle Grundor’s got this.”

Grundor dropped from the trees and began sprinting forward, picking up the pace. With one hand, he knocked aside a dense outgrowth of shrubs as he darted through it, and with the other, he pet the cute but not very nice kitty, who began to purr as he stroked his fur.

“Lower,” Fluffles demanded. “Lower! More lower! Okay. Right there. Now do chin scratch. I want food now, too.”

Grundor smiled. Things were going to work out. He knew they would.