Chapter 88
Pin Him Down
“Do I need to charge it up?” asked Rel. “I have an item that gives me one instant cast per day.”
“I’m afraid so,” replied Zalandar. “In my current state, my magical prowess leaves a great deal to be desired. I’ll need a little time to make my finishing touches to the spell’s formation… perhaps thirty seconds.”
“Talking of magical prowess,” said Rel. “I’ve actually been looking forward to meeting the great Archmagus Zalandar for some time. Over the past few months, I’ve had numerous opportunities to examine your work. While it is undoubtedly remarkable, I can suggest several ways in which it might be improved. Take the Arcane Projection Chamber in the Expedition Centre, for example–”
Zalandar let loose a great roar of laughter and held up his hands in mock surrender. “My boy, while I have no doubt that you can offer some fascinating insights into my work, it is perhaps not the ideal time for such a discussion.”
“Fine,” said Rel reluctantly. “However, just so you know, I have made several scrolls’ worth of notes.” Rel half-turned towards the Dark One, then paused. “There are diagrams too.”
“I would be disappointed if there wasn’t,” said Zalandar.
He took a deep breath, and when he spoke once more, a little of the humour had faded from his voice.
“Okay, the plan is simple enough in theory, but one thing I have learned in my very long life is that simple does not always mean easy. When we are ready, I will abandon this form and return to my cosy little home in your mind. From there, I will make my contributions to the spell’s formation. The difficulty is that we are likely to only have one shot at this. Holding my consciousness together for this long has already drained much of my strength. We cannot miss. When the blade of air is ready, Pete will need to hold Marv in place.”
Rel nodded his understanding. “I am sure Pete will relish the opportunity to wrestle an eldritch horror to the ground.”
“Very well,” said Zalandar. “Before I go, I must ask that you mention nothing of this little meeting to anyone. As far as GEC knows, I am currently travelling the cosmos in search of new and exciting arcane opportunities. I do not think they would be best pleased if they discovered I was actually hitching a ride in the mind of a Trialist whom I fathered as the result of a risky spell I cast while outrageously drunk. I do not fear their disapproval, but they are bureaucratic monsters. The amount of paperwork I would be required to fill out would be truly horrifying.”
“Why not just blast them with lightning?” asked Rel.
Zalandar stared at him for a few moments, said “Huh,” then reached up to scratch his chin. “That is... a surprisingly reasonable question.”
*
My pitchfork slammed into the Dark One’s side again. The impact still produced a satisfying thud, but instead of being hurled through the air, he only stumbled several steps before regaining his balance.
Shit.
He was growing stronger by the second.
I was still pressing the advantage my Titan form had given me, forcing him onto the defensive, but it was only a matter of time before he started fighting back.
I recalled the Pitchfork of Lurus, but as it came free with a delightful squelch, the Dark One's head suddenly whipped around, his jaws snapping shut around the weapon's haft.
What followed was an incredibly bizarre tug of war.
You had me on one side, my arm raised, fingers spread, as I attempted to recall the weapon to my hand. My face was scrunched up in what I hoped was an expression of fierce determination, but was probably much closer to that of a man fighting a losing battle against constipation.
On the other side, the Dark One snarled furiously as he held the weapon in place, his paws digging deep furrows into the ice.
So, you want to play that game, asshole?
I dropped Harvester’s Recall. All resistance immediately disappeared, and the Dark One promptly fell flat on his ass before tumbling backwards across the ice with a surprised squeal.
I darted forward, putting every bit of my 106 strength into an absolutely beastly front kick. My foot connected with the side of his torso, his ribs crumpling beneath the force.
You have gained 1 strength.
Current strength: 59
The Dark One let loose a furious, pained roar as he bounced across the ice. He slid to a stop in a tangled heap before struggling back to his paws.
Take that, you furry fuck face.
“Pete!” roared Rel. “I have a plan to end this. You need to pin him down while I channel a blade of air!”
I glanced back to see Rel hovering over the battlefield, a crescent blade of air already taking shape. I did a double take when I saw the swirling blue energy pulsing through the half-formed spell.
That was new.
I could only assume it had something to do with Rel’s plan. I shrugged. If he needed me to pin a motherfucker down, then I was going to pin a motherfucker down.
It was time to go full Pete unchained.
I shot up into the air, the sonic boom sending snow and ice spraying in all directions. Within a second, I was a quarter of a mile above the battlefield. I spun in the air, then dove towards the Dark One.
As I hurtled towards him, I activated Harvester’s Recall once again. The pitchfork – which had come free of the Dark One’s mouth the moment my foot rearranged his ribs – tore through the air with the perfect trajectory to meet me mid-flight. It slotted back into my hand a moment before I reached the beast.
He was nearly back on his paws now, his crumpled ribs healing rapidly.
I slammed into him, pitchfork first. Empowered by the momentum of my flight, the forks drove straight through his hide… and then kept going, punching through his body before burying themselves deeply in the snow below.
I wasn’t done yet.
Grabbing hold of the small section of handle protruding from the Dark One's body, I activated Lurus's Command. There was a sudden flash of green light. A moment later, the ground beneath our feet began to tremble.
There was a little pause, almost as if nature were hesitating, and I realised it probably needed some direction. The question was, could I communicate telepathically or did I need to say it aloud?
It was better to be safe than sorry.
“Hi, erm... ground?” I said. “How are you doing, buddy? Just so you know, I’m a big fan of nature, especially dirt. There’s something pretty special about it, you know? All brown and... dirty. Some people like sand. Others like water. But me? I’m team dirt all the way.”
That should do the trick. Now it was time to explain what I needed it to do…
It was at that moment I realised the Dark One had temporarily ceased his struggles and had turned to look at me, his blazing purple eyes full of bewilderment.
You’d think he’d never heard a guy compliment dirt before.
“Right,” I continued, “I need your help pinning this dumbass down. He’s a piece of shit and my friend’s intending to decapitate him with some sort of magical blade of air… oh, and he also said dirt sucks.”
The ground rumbled once more, but this time the vibrations came in short, uneven bursts.
Was it… laughing?
Regardless, it rose to the occasion with admirable enthusiasm.
The snow beside us exploded and an enormous hand burst from beneath it. It was formed from densely packed dirt and stone, veins of verdant energy snaking through it. It was easily as big as I was, each of its fingers as thick as my titanic thighs.
It didn’t hesitate.
It slammed down with far more speed and force than I’d been expecting. The palm crashed into the Dark One, driving him into the ice. Then the hand closed around his body, the verdant veins pulsing as he struggled furiously to break free.
I glanced up to see that Rel’s spell was coming along nicely. The air had become so densely compressed that it resembled a solid blade – a crescent of shimmering white with blue energy swirling along its edge. Even from where I stood, I could feel it thrumming with enough power to make me distinctly uncomfortable.
I was suddenly very glad that Rel was on my side.
He noticed me looking, and he shouted, his voice strained, “I need ten more seconds!”
Ten more seconds?
I glanced back to the Dark One. He was thrashing wildly now, knocking loose great chunks of enchanted dirt and stone. The hand was rebuilding itself, drawing on the earth beneath to repair the damage, but it was not doing it quickly enough.
Right.
I had a few more tricks up my sleeve.
I unleashed Aura of Dread, and the creature's struggles ceased for a moment as it let loose a furious howl. Its eyes snapped shut and it shook its head violently, as if attempting to shake loose the horrific thoughts invading its mind.
You have gained 1 intelligence.
Current intelligence: 27
And then for my final move.
My coup de grâce. My magnum opus. My greatest terrible idea.
I roared, then leapt onto the wildly thrashing pile of eldritch horror, enchanted earth, and pitchfork.
It was a confusing mess, but I did what I could. Whenever I saw fur, I struck. Punching. Kicking. Scratching. At one point, I may or may not have bitten him.
“Now!” roared Rel.
For a heartbeat, everything went still. Even the Dark One stopped struggling and twisted his head to look at Rel, his purple eyes wide.
There was a thunderous boom as Rel unleashed the spell, and the crescent blade cut through the air with a shrieking howl. It moved so quickly that even with my 55 agility, I could barely follow it.
The blade sliced deep into the Dark One’s neck before the spell dissipated, a great fountain of blood spraying across the ice.
I disentangled myself and took a few steps back to see what Rel’s spell had actually done.
Honestly... the results were a little underwhelming.
After all that frantic build-up – skewering the creature with a divine pitchfork, summoning an enormous magical hand, unleashing my Aura... I'd expected a decapitation so forceful that the creature's head would fly into the air and bounce across the ice.
Instead, it looked more like a partial severing of the head. Rel’s blade of air had cut perhaps seven inches into the Dark One’s neck, but for a creature with his regenerative abilities, I wasn’t convinced it would be enough to kill him.
Then I realised the neck wound wasn't the goal. Apparently, that had just been the starter, and now we were moving on to the main course.
The blue energy that had been swirling along the edge of the blade as Rel channelled the spell was now spreading from the wound like some sort of arcane virus... or, based on the foul purple mist rising from the Dark One’s body, perhaps arcane anti-virus would be more appropriate.
It was scouring the corruption from Winterclaw’s body.
The Dark One began thrashing wildly again, but this time it wasn’t about breaking free. It was just because whatever was going on inside his body was outrageously painful.
If it weren’t for the fact he was an absolute shitstain, I might have felt a little bad for him when I saw the purple in his eyes begin to flicker wildly. It burned brighter for a moment before slowly fading until all that remained was the black of Winterclaw’s natural eyes. Then the creature sagged and went still, his breathing slow and shallow.
Quest Complete: The Dark One
Thank you!
Between you and me, that creature should never have been allowed to enter the Trial Zone in the first place. It appears there may have been a minor administrative oversight.
A very minor oversight.
One that definitely wasn't my fault.
Nobody else needs to know about this. Keep it between us, and I will make it worth your while.
wink wink
Rewards:
5,000,000 gold
Heart of the Banished Dark
wink wink
What the actual fuck?