Touch of Fate 68 Things are Heating Up

With a start, Mike realized he recognized the them. They were the three muscle-bound adventurers that had spoken out to him on his first day in Wyrport, the ones that thought he was getting in the wrong line. He had almost forgotten how tall they were, dwarfing even the armored warriors he'd been fighting.

They were fully kitted out for battle, dressed in a sort of opalescent, chitinous full plate that looked to have been fabricated out of the exoskeleton of some giant insect. All three of them were carrying massive double-sided battleaxes. The sight of them reminded Mike of a certain video game about hunting monsters.

The one in the center, Mike thought his name was Ice or Glacier…..or was it something to do with hamburgers? Anyway, the tallest of the group, by a few centimeters anyway, smirked down at Mike in what might have been a reassuring manner in a different man.

"Don't you worry, Mike, we'll take care of these lugs. You just focus on taking care of the little lady." He said, while stooping over in an awkward manner due to the height difference, to pat him on the shoulder. "You've done enough so far."

Mike just nodded his thanks, already focusing his full attention on healing the wounded Oracle. He was going to have to remove the spear carefully to avoid damaging her internal organs any further.

With another quick application of Fire Magic, he severed the odd grappling hook portion, before slowly removing the shaft of the spear. He would need all of his concentration to avoid causing any issues.

At about this time, Brenden howled a war cry, already deep in his berserker rage and hurled himself at the leader of the armored warriors.

The three large adventurers quickly moved to support him. The leader moved to face Keld, while the other two ganged up on Joran, evidently seeking to remove the injured opponent from the battle quickly.

Tal began muttering another chant. Mike couldn't quite hear it, but some instinct of his let him know that it was a form of Earth Magic.

The leader of the armored warriors called a quick series of commands, while blocking the furious rush of Brenden's attacks with apparent ease.

"Keld, deal with that big fool and move to neutralize that elf caster before she has a chance to cause us trouble. I'll help out Joran as soon as I teach this puppy some manners."

"If you say so, Boss Nash." Keld replied wearily, before muttering under his breath, "Man, he never lets me have any fun. It's always Keld kill this, finish them off faster…"

He knocked away the first attack from the large adventurer, seemingly without too much trouble, before launching a sweeping strike at the giant's side.

With a crashing impact the blow forced the man back a step, but he remained upright and seemingly uninjured.

"You'll have to do better than that to get Berg, of the Mountain's Fury, to move."

[Berg! That was his name. Now I remember.]

Mike had finished removing the spear, and was now concentrating on closing the injury, while repairing any overt trauma to Sera's internal organs. Since, the Healing Magic skill handled most of this automatically, he had some focus to spare on watching the fight.

For the most part the adventurer's seemed to be holding their own. Joran had been forced to fight defensively against the pair assailing him.

He had been relying on his superior speed and strength, but the pair was used to working together, and their teamwork was making up for the difference.

Only Brenden seemed to be having trouble, as his experienced opponent repeatedly took advantage of the young adventurer's unfocused rage.

Trapping Brenden's sword with the haft of his weapon, the warrior named Nash grabbed the beastman's head and slammed an armored knee into his face, sending him reeling.

Nash lifted his war hammer, preparing to deliver a crushing attacking on the adventurer, when a spike of stone shot from the ground, threatening to impale him.

Nash was narrowly able to avoid the full brunt of Tal's spell, but a thin line was carved in his armor. Black fluid trickled from the scar.

"Damn it, Keld! What's taking so long?"

"Working on it Boss! This guy's armor is pretty impressive. I think it might be made from Shield Beetle Chitin." The warrior replied jauntily, revealing that he was still not taking the battle seriously.

Nash growled in reply. While blocking another headlong rush from the still raging Brenden, he yelled at his subordinate.

"Keld! Use your gods-damned Bestowal already!"

"Alright, alright. Relax. It's not like these guys are actually a challenge." The arrogant warrior turned towards Berg.

"Well, you heard the boss. I've got to cut this short. When you get to the afterlife be sure to let them know that Keld, Thirteenth Sword of the Chosen, sent you there."

A sudden pressure was emitted from the warrior as a dark, squirming rune appeared on his armor. Its appearance defied explanation or observation, and those who witnessed it each saw a different image.

With a crackling pop, Keld vanished, only to reappear behind Berg. The armored warrior was already in the midst of a powerful overhead swing, that sundered the adventurer's armor and cut deep into his back.

Berg grunted in pain, whirling to face his foe again, but much like before, Keld simply teleported behind the adventurer, sword at the ready.

"This always feels a little unfair," he said as he brought his weapon down, "but I do so enjoy it when they struggle-"

His blow was intercepted and redirected by a spear made of hardened stone. Keld barely had time to register the sudden change, before a powerful impact struck the side of his helmet, sending him rolling.

Mike landed lightly on his feet after successfully completing his roundhouse kick. With efficient movements, he readied his newly formed spear.

He shot a quick glance back at Sera's unmoving form, before focusing on the battle at hand. The Oracle was still unconscious, but was no longer in danger of dying from her injuries.

Berg nodded his thanks. The wound on his back was worse than he was willing to admit, but he was fighting through the pain.

A stream hollow laughter sounded from Keld, "Hahahaha, I was not expecting that. Good job. Of course, now I have to destroy you, so no hard feelings, eh?"

He vanished with another pop, and Mike instinctively rolled to his left, barely avoiding the heavy sword that traveled through the space he had just occupied. He tried to counterattack but the armored warrior had already moved again, forcing Mike to make another desperate dodge.

There was a roaring sound of breaking earth and shrieking metal. Mike was dimly aware that Tal had cast another spell, evidently turning the tide in the other fight. So much so, that it called for a change of tactics.

Nash's voice broke through the sounds of combat. "Keld! You useless piece of excrement! GO DEAL WITH THAT CASTER!"

"Fine, fine. If you insist, boss," came the carefree response.

With a sinking sensation in his gut, Mike turned and started moving.

Perhaps it was because of the adrenaline coursing through his veins, or maybe it was just that he had gotten used to Keld's strange teleportation, but time seemed to slow down for Mike. He was able to watch as the warrior materialized, bit by bit, behind Tal. His sword poised to for a killing strike.

Mike knew he wouldn't be able to get over there in time, so he made use of a trump card he had been saving for an opportune moment.

With an effort of will, he once again summoned forth a raging flame, and quickly redirected into his body. With a single step, he brought his arm forward in blur, flinging the earthen spear at fantastic speeds.

Ordinarily this would have been an untenable option for him, since he had never been particularly coordinated, but he had recently acquired a new skill that made it possible.

At some point during the night's conflict, the Basic Throwing skill had shown up in his , allowing him to accurately land attacks with thrown weapons.

The spear caught Keld in mid-swing, punching into his chest plate and knocking him off his feet. The shock of the blow caused him to drop his sword, which embedded itself in the ground less than a meter from where Tal was standing.

Keld groaned, and started to stand, but was forced back down as Mike crashed onto the warrior's chest.

With a quick yank, Mike pulled the spear free, bringing forth a gout of sticky, black liquid, and a low squeal of tortured metal.

For a second, it looked as if the youth was poised to drive the spear back in, but instead he dropped it, and with bone crushing force he punched his arm up to the elbow into the hole made by the spear.

Mike felt like he was pushing his fist into cold, oily mud. It seemed that Chosen's body was almost entirely made up entirely of the strange goo. Goo that was somehow able to move a suit of armor.

He had a mental flashback to a certain symbiotic entity that was an antagonist to one of his favorite superheroes.

As Mike channeled mana into his fist, he looked Keld in the eyes, or at least where the creature's eyes should have been.

"Well, well. Aren't you full of surprises? Don't suppose you'd be willing to negotiate?" The Chosen asked, already sounding weaker than before.

Mike stared back at him, face set in stone. "Nope."

And with that, he unleashed a torrent of flames from his clenched hand.

A thick, black smoke started pouring out of Keld's armor, as the warrior thrashed around in obvious pain. As angry orange flames shot from the joints in the segmented armor, the chosen released one last hoarse scream before falling still.

Mike pulled his arm, bits of ash falling from his hand onto the now scorched and hollow chestplate.

It was clear that the Chosen was no more.

Chapter end