Blessed Time: The Complete Series: (A LitRPG Adventure Box Set), page 71
The Luoca faltered, the feral intensity of its human eyes fading for just a second as its fall lost all purpose and control. Just as the monster snapped out of its fugue, literally shaking itself in an attempt to destroy its connection with Drekt’s focus, Micah finished his spell.
A quintet of massive vines, each as big around as his waist, exploded from the ground. They reached up into the air, questing like some subterranean giant’s fingers as they followed Micah’s gaze and wrapped themselves around the distracted Luoca.
Its wings scissored once, tearing a root in half before it could reach the daemon, but the remaining four tentacles of vegetable matter squeezed around it. A moment later, they clenched like a fist, spasming as the spell automatically tried to crush the breath out of its target before slamming it to the ground.
Micah stumbled backward a step, already casting temporal vortex, as the squirming Luoca hit the earth hard enough to shake the very soil beneath his feet. He knew that binding vines wouldn’t be enough. As much mana and time as the spell took, it would only be able to hold the struggling daemon for a short time. Between the monster’s razor-edged wings and the aura that literally melted reality, it would be impossible to physically restrain it.
Deep inside of him, a rebellious stray thought wondered if he’d have been able to immobilize it using the focus. It whispered that maybe they wouldn’t have even had to kill the monster, that he simply could have reasserted control and brought it to heel once more.
Micah grunted, silencing the traitorous voice as the mana coalesced in his hands. Drekt and Trevor were right. As useful as having the Luoca back would be, the daemon was a blind spot. He always found himself coming back to the creature, obsessing over how it would be essential to his success.
It was true that the Luoca would help, but at the same time, there was no denying that he was in uncharted territory. It wasn’t likely that he would be contaminated by the energy of Elsewhere pouring off of the creature once again, but on the other hand he just didn’t know what the precise odds were.
Similarly, he’d already lost control of the daemon once. That meant it could happen again, and for all Micah knew, his connection with the monster would be weaker, more likely to suffer a repeat performance.
No, he thought, the last words to the spell spilling from his lips. As much as he’d resisted, Drekt and Trevor had a point about the daemons. Jo? Well, she just thought it was exciting that they were living next to a death machine that could slip its leash and kill all of them at any point in time. Not exactly a sentiment that he should be relying upon while engaging in long-term planning.
Just as the ball of distorted energy summoned by temporal vortex sprang into being, the sturgeon unleashed the breath attack it had been charging since the beginning of the fight.
A crackling blast of golden energy momentarily robbed Micah of his sight as the pillar of mana erupted from the spirit’s mouth. He staggered backward, disorientated, the heat from the beam of mana singing his arms and face.
Somewhere in the maelstrom of raging magic, the soap bubble of temporal vortex was ripping at the inside of the daemon, robbing hundreds of years from fist-sized chunks of the monster before forcing that same energy into a dozen pinky-sized bars radiating out from the center of the spell.
With any luck, it would ravage the daemon’s insides, crippling the monster and leaving it easy prey for Trevor. Micah began casting haste anyway. He wasn’t the most superstitious person on Karell, but his past three lives had taught him that relying on luck was a mistake.
The brilliant yellow corona of light surrounding the sturgeon began to fade as it exhausted the gathered mana. Already, Micah could feel the grand formation below his feet thrumming as it sought to refill the spirit’s reserves.
In the moment the beam of energy sputtered out, leaving a charred crater in the grass, the Luoca charged in. Bloody froth coated its human lips as its tongue lolled insensibly. It gibbered, scanning the clearing madly until they landed on Micah about twenty paces away. Only then did some hateful clarity return to the swiveling eyes.
Micah frowned, spinning his spear once before setting its butt into the ground in front of him. The energy beam had burned his vines from the daemon, freeing it but leaving a great, jagged, charred mark across its right flank.
It staggered forward with a limp, clearly favoring its left side. Micah exhaled and tightened his grip on the cool wood of his spear. At least the sturgeon’s attack had seared one of the monster’s wings to the point of limp and broken uselessness.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said about temporal vortex. His mouth tightened into a grim line as he assessed the Luoca’s injuries. Already the wounds covering the monster were beginning to heal as its prodigious regeneration went to work.
None of them were internal. Micah kicked himself. The daemon’s body was timeless. He’d never sensed any temporal energy from the monster when he’d had it under his control. It had never struck him as an important or salient point, but it only made sense that its shell, magically constructed via a ritual, would be immune to the ravages of age.
His most powerful combat spell had nothing to grab onto, and without temporal energy the storm of magic that would ordinarily tear any monster apart from the inside turned into little more than a pretty ball of light.
Micah swallowed his regrets, combining Flash Step from Trevor’s spear martial art with the speed granted by haste to dart close to the lumbering daemon. In one smooth motion, he activated the sonic enchantment in his spear and lunged toward a shoulder, seeking to injure one of the Luoca’s legs and slow the monster further.
He never made it. Even with all of his attributes and speed, the Luoca simply had too many levels on him. Its one functional wing blurred through the air, the tortured atmosphere cracking a moment later as the attack broke the sound barrier.
Planting his legs, Micah whipped the butt of his spear upward and caught the razor-sharp wing on the magically hardened shaft.
A second later he was flying, a chip taken out of his weapon and the daemon chasing him. He thrust out his left hand, unleashing a sonic bolt directly into the creature’s snarling face.
It didn’t disorient the Luoca. That was far too much to ask from a mere second-tier spell, but it did enough damage to draw a trickle of blood from the monster’s human ears.
Then Micah hit the ground. He skidded on his back, drawing a furrow in the rich soil of the lakeshore. Before he could get to his feet, the Luoca was on top of him, face dripping bloody saliva that hissed and melted the grass around him.
It lifted a leg, poising its needle-like tip above his chest, just as Micah thrust upward with his spear. His Body attribute and sonic enchantment stretched to their limits.
A crackling shackle of red light slammed into the daemon, followed shortly thereafter by a hail of air knives. The magical pinpricks chipped away at the monster’s thick chitin.
Micah’s spear took it in the chest, barely punching through the Luoca’s heavy armor and into the soft muscle beneath. It shook its head, straining against Drekt’s focus even as Micah poured more mana into the sonic enchantment, willing it to vibrate and cut through the pseudo-organs that powered the daemon’s magical body.
It leaned its face toward him, eyes bloodshot and its too-long tongue flapping wildly as it tried to slather him with reality-melting ichor. An arrow sprouted from an eye, a testament to Sarah’s luck and aim.
The daemon reared back in pain, ripping Micah’s spear from its chest and breaking Drekt’s binding attempt like it was made out of wet paper. Without hesitation, Micah rolled to the side before kicking off the ground, using his absurd Body attribute to launch himself backward in a spray of dirt.
The sturgeon rammed into the Luoca, clamping its golden jaws onto the daemon’s remaining wing. Instinctively, the massive insect tried to stab the spirit with its tail, only for the severed tip to bounce fruitlessly off of the mana that served as the guardian’s scales.
Micah jumped to his feet, firing a pressure spear into the daemon’s hindquarters from barely ten paces away. The spell barely cracked its armor and loosed a trickle of molten blood as the monster struggled to free itself from the sturgeon’s grasp.
He managed one more spell, another pressure spear in roughly the same spot, before the Luoca bit the golden spirit back, forcing it to let go of the daemon’s wing long enough for it to pull the appendage free.
Grimly, Micah noted that the armor where he’d struck the Luoca was dented and spiderwebbed with cracks. As strong as the creature was, its armor wasn’t invulnerable.
Even as its wing sliced through the head of the sturgeon, dissolving it to a formless golden mist with contemptuous ease, Micah lunged forward, plunging his spear into the weakened hole in its armor.
The chitin resisted for a moment, sending his spear tip skittering along its rigid surface before it collapsed under the force of Micah’s assault. The spear sank an arm’s length deep into the daemon before he even managed to activate the sonic enchantment.
It spun around, trying to find the creature that dared to harm it, but Micah simply lifted his feet and let the creature’s own rotation pull him away from its sight. The entire time, the spear in his hands vibrated and thrummed as it let loose a series of rapid ultrasonic pulses, rupturing the wormlike tunnels of ichor that passed for the creature’s veins.
Another pair of air knives struck sparks off of its armor, leaving little more than dimples in the Luoca’s pitted and scarred surface. An arrow hit its wing, deflecting off of the deceptively hard gossamer surface to no effect.
The daemon ignored the attacks, instead swinging its blunted tail sideways and catching Micah in the shoulder. The breath rushed out of him as the attack rocked him sideways, jerking the spear and widening the Luoca’s wound.
It barely seemed to notice, instead drawing back to attack again. Micah closed his eyes and squared himself against the coming blow.
The tail hit him in the head, leaving his ears ringing even as he lurched downwards, barely keeping a grip on his spear. Once again, his spear sliced upward and turned the soft interior flesh of the daemon’s rear-left thigh into hamburger.
The Luoca shrieked in rage, flipping itself onto its back in an effort to crush Micah. He was just a hair too quick, letting go of the spear haft and jumping to the side even as the monster did a barrel roll, pinning the spear against the ground and using its momentum to rip the weapon free.
Steaming blood geysered across the field, melting grass and fusing dirt into lifeless rocks wherever it landed. Another beam of crackling red energy lashed out across the clearing, latching onto the Luoca and pinning it.
Micah glanced back at Drekt and frowned. Sarah continued her barrage of arrows, trying her hardest to land a blow on a joint or a weak spot to little avail, but the big man was on his last legs. Drekt’s chest pumped in and out like a blacksmith’s bellows, his legs wobbling and his body covered in sweat. Although he had the Luoca now, the big warrior wouldn’t be able to hold for long.
His hands cupped together as Micah began casting sonic orb, ducking past the daemon’s kicking legs and arterial sprays of toxic blood. A moment later, he finished his spell. He pressed his hands against the thinner armor of the Luoca’s underside as he unleashed the crackling ball of vibrational energy into the upended daemon.
It spasmed, legs going wild, and Micah used that time to dive and retrieve his spear. The moment it was in his hand, he flicked the blade downward, spattering the monster’s destructive blood into the dirt. He could already feel his weapon’s enchantment beginning to weaken from its prolonged contact with the mists of Elsewhere roiling off the daemon. Another unfortunate piece of fallout from this entire affair.
The daemon righted itself, body wobbling drunkenly. It opened its mouth to scream at Micah, revealing a half-severed tongue, sheared through by its own teeth during its mad flailing. Jo swooped overhead and peppered it with air knives, knocking off some of the dirt that had accumulated on the daemon’s back but doing no real damage.
Then six ribbons of white silk, painted with bloody runes, unfurled themselves around the Luoca. It stared at them in confusion, slack-jawed and pouring blood from the ruin of its mouth.
Trevor closed a fist, and the streamers—three sprouting from each of his wrists—clenched around the Luoca’s remaining legs and tail, flipping it on its side and holding it still.
The daemon shuddered, trying to break the cloth’s grip on it, but then the runes began to glow. Each of them the reverse of the sigils used in a summoning ritual, they pulsed and began to suck vital energy from the monster.
For the first time, the daemon’s remaining eye showed something other than rage. It lifted its head weakly as it tried to make sense of the situation, a very human expression of fear on its broken and bloody face.
Micah lunged forward, triggering Wind Burst and the spear’s sonic enchantment as it punched through the daemon’s forehead, erasing its horror forever. It shuddered once and went still.
For a moment, the only sound in the clearing was Micah and Drekt rasping for breath. Micah leaned against his spear, most of the strength draining out of him as he stared at the dead monster.
“Holy crap,” Trevor chuckled. “Check your statuses everyone; I gained two full levels.”
FORTY-EIGHT
FAMILIAR FACES
Micah shifted in the uncomfortable bed. He’d gotten better at building walls and ensuring that the roof on his log house didn’t leak, but hadn’t really gotten the hang of beds yet. It was still a tad too hard, and angled slightly downward.
Usually he made a point of working out or trying to solve a complex problem before trying to sleep. It helped calm his mind enough that he wouldn’t end up obsessing over his cramped sleeping conditions for hours at a time.
Unfortunately, despite the battle with the Luoca earlier in the day, he wasn’t the least bit tired. It might be the afterglow of the adrenaline running through his system, but Micah didn’t feel a need to rest.
Giving up on sleep for the moment, Micah opened his status.
Age: 16 [ERROR] / 30
Class/Level: Divine Candidate 27
XP: 17,000/60,000
HP: 2542/2542
Class Specialty
Chronomancer
Attributes
Body: 31
Agility: 31
Mind: 63
Spirit: 62
Attunement
Moon: 32
Sun: 3
Night: 28
Mana
Moon: 2575/2575
Sun: 2517/2517
Night: 2567/2567
Affinities
Time: 10
Tier V - Foresight 8, Time Echoes 1, Temporal Transfer 2, Haste 10
Tier VI - Temporal Vortex 5, Temporal Stutter 4
Wood: 7
Tier I - Refresh 11, Mending 9, Plant Weave 12
Tier II - Augmented Mending 18, Root Spears 13
Tier III - Heal 11, Paralytic Sting 6, Explosive Thicket 6
Tier IV - Regeneration 6, Healing Wave 6, Poison Fog 7
Tier V - Panacea 1, Coma 1
Tier VI - Binding Vines 3,
Air: 6
Tier I - Gale 8, Air Knife 18, Air Supply 4
Tier II - Wind Shield 8, Sonic Bolt 14
Tier III - Updraft 3, Pressure Spear 8, Sonic Orb 7
Tier IV - Flight 3
Blessings
Mythic Blessing of Mursa - Blessed Return, Ageless Folio
Skills
Anatomy: 7
Arcana: 13
Enchanting: 28
Fishing: 1
Herbalism: 5
Librarian: 5
Ritual Magic: 30
Spear: 25
-Wind Spear: 13
-TITS: 7
Spellcasting37
He smiled into the darkness. There was no question in Micah’s mind that despite the slightly lower mana totals, his present self could wipe the floor with the iteration from his last timeline, and he only had room to grow.
The sturgeon helped. He’d have to power it with his own mana if he were away from the defensive formation they’d erected around the camp, but for brief flashes it was almost as powerful as the Luoca. Unfortunately, those flashes had a tendency to burn through his mana very rapidly, but at least in theory he’d be able to maintain the summon and cast spells of his own at the same time.
Pondering his updated abilities and how to best rename his new martial art, Micah finally felt his eyelids growing heavy. Gratefully, he let himself drift off to sleep.
When his eyes opened, Micah found himself in a dark expanse choked with cloying mist. As far as he could see, the cold tang of Elsewhere filled the air.
“Human,” a genderless voice echoed through the empty space, “rejoice, for you have been blessed by the Sixteen.”
He frowned, memory trailing back to the first time he’d heard the voice at his blessing, almost fifteen years ago.
“The Goddess Mursa has seen fit to—” It cut out abruptly, leaving him alone in the silent and slightly chilly darkness.
Micah looked around himself. There was still the hint of unreality he’d come to associate with Elsewhere, but the more he observed, the less he thought he was actually in the misty, formless expanse.
“Happy sixteenth birthday, Micah Silver. Again.”
He froze, the feminine voice sending ice water down his spine. Slowly, Micah turned around, squinting into the roiling fog that surrounded him. In the distance he could spot a massive and everchanging shape as it grew nearer.
“Mursa?” Micah whispered, licking his dry lips.
The mists shifted, as if an invisible hand waved through their depths. Micah felt an unearthly wind blow over him. In the distance, he felt more than heard the shape slither-crawl toward him.
