The Apocalypse is a Side Quest: Book Three, page 15
He surfaced beneath a ship’s hull and drove his fist through it, tearing open a hole. Water gushed in as he hauled himself inside, greeted by six armed troops staring at him in shock. An alarm blared.
“Evening, gentlemen,” Nathan said.
One of the Harrowed Hand members shrieked and lunged. Nathan ducked forward, driving a knee into the man’s gut before whipping out his fishing pole. The weighted hook cracked against the man’s forehead, dropping him unconscious.
Nathan wove through the remaining fighters—dodging, striking—until they all lay motionless within seconds. He sprinted into the hallway, only to face a pistol-wielding enemy. The man flinched but managed to cock the hammer and fire.
Nathan dropped low, the bullet whipping past as he surged upward. He grabbed the shooter by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall. The man wheezed, breath knocked out of him. Nathan snapped his head forward—their skulls collided, and the man crumpled.
Nathan bolted for the metal stairs, taking them two at a time, and reached the top, only to come face-to-face with…
Gabriel. And to his right was Reckson.
Gabriel stared at him with an impassive expression. He seemed utterly unconcerned by the fact that Nathan had appeared out of the bottom of the ship and that his vessel was currently screaming alarms at him.
Reckson, on the other hand, looked absolutely spent. He was taking long, deep breaths, and his face was so pale that Nathan might’ve thought the man was an albino. Great droplets of sweat poured down his forehead, and he seemed on the verge of collapsing.
“Gabriel, it’s been a hot minute,” Nathan said. “How you been?”
“Well enough. I have to admit your little raiding attacks have been somewhat frustrating. I suppose I can give credit where credit is due.”
Nathan’s eyes flickered from him to Reckson. “Your buddy there doesn’t seem so hot.”
“He’ll be fine.”
Once again, the words were impassive and cold. If Nathan didn’t know any better, he’d say Gabriel truly wasn’t worried at all about the fact that his little ace in the hole seemed on the verge of dying.
“This was preplanned. You somehow knew where we were gonna be, and you set up this entire ambush.”
“That we did. Truth be told, the original plan was to take a far more reactionary approach, but I was convinced by a third party to be a bit more… proactive.”
“Does this third party happen to be a mysterious disembodied voice that can manifest itself as a bunch of dust particles?”
“I see you’ve met him as well.” Gabriel pulled out his pike and rested it on his shoulder. “He’s told us everything, Nathan. All your weaknesses, all your limits. The exact stats you possess, along with your current class and race rank.”
Nathan tensed. “Did he mention the part where I could blow this entire ship to smithereens?”
“You could, but that wouldn’t solve the problem. You’d be out of commission afterward, right? Look at how many ships there are. Your men are completely surrounded. Sure, you could take me out. But everybody inside that little fort would be dead and blown to smithereens.”
Nathan furrowed his eyebrows.
They really did know. They’d perfectly set it up. Nathan would use his first maelstrom on the fortress walls, then they’d make sure it was a lose-lose situation no matter what he did. He’d been completely outflanked.
“I don’t need Basic Maelstrom in order to beat you. In fact, it’s not even a two versus one. Reckson is just going to be dead weight.”
“Oh, he will? I wasn’t aware.”
Reckson gave a ghostly smile at Nathan’s words and reared his fist back. “I think you’ll find me a far more difficult opponent than you anticipate.”
Nathan adjusted his grip on his fishing rod.
Five minutes.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nathan dashed to the right of the black pike—and noticed it had come far closer to cutting him than the last time they’d fought.
Gabriel had gotten stronger.
Nathan hadn’t changed a bit.
He swung forward, his fishing rod’s hook flying directly toward Gabriel’s head. Reckson’s fist slammed it out of the sky, then he charged forward and threw a one-two combo at Nathan. Nathan dodged both strikes, then kneed Reckson in the stomach.
A bright red glow flashed from the point of impact.
The counterattack swung toward Nathan’s head, and the world lit up red. Energy shot forward faster than Nathan could dodge, hitting him square in the shoulder. The force hurled him backward into the railing, denting it with a loud bang.
“What was that you said about me being dead weight?” Reckson said.
Nathan had figured it out.
Reckson’s ability was some kind of energy storage and redirection. He’d soak up hits, then transfer them back. A simple technique, but the greater the force, the more devastating it became. Even with weaker strikes—like the one he’d just taken—Reckson could use it in unexpected ways, catching Nathan off guard.
It took a toll. Not direct damage, but Nathan saw the way Reckson’s knees trembled. The backlash was indirect, yet it was still wearing him down.
So Nathan just had to break his limit. Push Reckson past the edge, and he’d win.
The problem was Gabriel.
Gabriel hadn’t shown any new abilities since their last fight—but he didn’t need to. In raw skill, Gabriel was one of the most effective fighters Nathan had ever seen. Every move was smooth, precise, impossible to predict. The strikes kept cutting so close, not just because of Gabriel’s dexterity, but because he had no tells. Nathan had learned to read fighters by the twitch of a hand or the flicker of their eyes.
Gabriel had none of that.
Perfect control.
Nathan pushed himself off the railing, steadying his stance.
“I’ve got to admit, this isn’t looking particularly good for me,” Nathan muttered.
“If you want to surrender, we’d be happy to accept,” Gabriel replied. “Your people will be treated with honor. No harm will come to them.”
“Except for the brainwashing.”
A flicker of tension—so faint Nathan wouldn’t have noticed if the man weren’t usually carved from stone.
“I’m sure I don’t have the faintest clue what you’re talking about.”
“Enough with the talk!” Reckson pounded his fists together. “Let’s hurry up and finish this.”
Nathan’s eyes darted back toward the castle walls, where Mara had promised her ace in the hole.
Three minutes left.
Nathan was going to be defeated here. He was outmatched and overwhelmed. Individually, he was confident he’d have a good shot at taking them down. But together…
What he needed was an ally, but everybody was busy. In the distance, he could make out Chad leaping onto one of the enemy ships, sword blazing as he fought the crew. Mara was still preparing her superweapon. Bree and Fuge were busy directing the defenses—defenses that were rapidly crumbling. The fortress wouldn’t hold much longer. Soon, the steamships would overwhelm them with sheer numbers.
It was up to Nathan.
“How do you feel about high voltage work?” Nathan said.
“What? That didn’t sound like surrender—”
Nathan tilted his hand and formed it into a gun.
“Bang.”
Lightning erupted from his index finger, splitting in two—one bolt streaking toward Reckson, the other toward Gabriel.
A flicker of panic crossed Gabriel’s eyes before he drove his black pike into the deck, angling the handle toward the lightning. Reckson, meanwhile, just shielded his face.
The bolt struck Reckson, engulfing him in a bright red glow. For Gabriel, the lightning coursed through the pike and dissipated into the ship, leaving him unharmed.
But for a split second, Gabriel had shut his eyes against the flash.
Nathan lunged forward. In that instant, he hurled his fishing pole with all his strength. The hook smashed into Gabriel’s skull with a loud crack, the force hurling him overboard. He hit the water with a splash.
“Gabriel!”
Nathan leaped back, narrowly avoiding a blast of superheated air. Reckson stomped the ground, and a red flash blinded Nathan. In the next breath, Reckson closed the distance, his enhanced speed carrying him forward like a blur. He crashed into Nathan, sending them both sprawling. Nathan blocked a punch, but Reckson seized his arm, twisting it into a lock.
Nathan felt the joint groan, bone grinding against bone.
Something cracked, and Nathan bit his tongue to prevent a scream.
Gritting his teeth, he reared his foot back and kicked Reckson’s head as hard as he could. Reckson released him and staggered back. Nathan scrambled to his feet, clutching his throbbing shoulder. It wasn’t dislocated, but the pain was excruciating.
One minute left. Nathan just had to hold on for one more minute—
A flash of light hit his eye. He dove forward as Gabriel’s black pike drove into the spot where he’d just been. In that split-second lapse, Reckson slipped back in and struck Nathan in the back of the head. Nathan’s vision darkened, the world losing sensation around him.
Gabriel yanked his pike free and thrust it straight into Nathan’s stomach. For a moment, Nathan felt his Constitution struggle against the sheer force of the blow—but it was a direct strike. The pike pierced clean through him.
Nathan didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Gabriel sneered. “And I believe that’s the end of the legend. It was a good run while it lasted.”
Nathan managed half a smile.
Zero minutes.
Gabriel and Reckson froze. Instinctively, they turned toward Mara. Reckson unleashed a blast of power at the same instant she pulled the trigger.
It was hard to describe—a faint white spark at the edge of Mara’s weapon, then the world erupted in blinding light. A streak of white energy tore forward, slamming into Reckson. His own blast, a wave of superheated air, carved a deep gash across Mara’s shoulder and chest. She screamed, the force of the impact throwing her against the castle wall, where she crumpled. The shot went wide and sliced up and through a cloud.
The white beam had torn through Reckson, leaving a smoking hole in his torso. He staggered but remained standing, his red aura flickering but not extinguished. Beside him, Gabriel had dragged himself back onto the deck, his side gravely wounded but his eyes burning with fury as he reached for his pike.
“Not… enough,” Reckson gasped, raising a trembling hand that still glowed with energy.
Nathan’s vision wavered, darkness threatening at the edges. The pike wound in his stomach burned like fire, but he was still standing. He could end this—right here, right now. Gabriel was wounded, struggling to rise. Reckson was badly injured, but gathering his power for another attack. Two, maybe three good strikes and they’d be done forever.
But across the sea, Mara lay motionless, blood pooling beneath her. Her chest still rose and fell, but barely. She needed medical attention—immediately.
Time seemed to slow as Nathan made his choice. He could finish his enemies or save her—but not both.
“Next time,” Nathan growled, turning away from his wounded foes.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Nathan tensed his legs and leaped—soaring through the air toward the castle walls where Mara lay dying. Behind him, he could hear Gabriel’s curses and Reckson’s labored breathing as they struggled to pursue.
When he landed, he froze.
Her skin looked like it had been boiled; massive bruises already forming along her body. Her face was rapidly paling, and she was taking rapid, shallow breaths.
She glanced at him, eyes wild with manic glee despite her injuries, and offered a blood-stained grin. “Did you see his face when it hit? That beautiful moment of surprise before the pain? Worth getting a little cooked for.”
“You know there’s a hole in your chest, right?”
Mara looked down and poked at the wound with disturbing fascination. “Ooh, that’s a good one. Bet I could fit at least three fingers in there.” She tried to laugh, but all that came out was a wet cough and blood. It splattered onto her hands and the rifle. “Pretty!” she said. She stared at the crimson speckles on the gun like they were artistic flourishes. With obvious reluctance, she stowed the rifle in her inventory, then slumped against the wall.
The sound of her ragged breathing—punctuated by occasional laughs as she prodded her injuries—snapped Nathan into action. He scooped her up gently.
Her hand instinctively went for her inventory. “Hey! I’m not done!”
He looked down at her incredulously. “I’m getting you back to town for treatment.”
“But I’m not finished!” Her eyes lit up with a feverish gleam. “Gabriel and Reckson are still crawling away somewhere. We need to finish them off.”
“Not happening.”
She pouted with blood-stained lips. “You’re no fun. No fun at all.”
Nathan pulled up his menu and swiftly transferred town control to Bree. He turned—now standing in the center of the fort.
“Bree, I need to get back to the town. Launch a raid, now!”
Bree nodded, her fingers flying through the interface. A moment later, Nathan’s body dissolved into light, then reformed just as quickly.
Mara still lay in his arms when he reappeared. She looked genuinely disappointed.
“You ruined everything,” she muttered. “I wanted to see if Reckson’s eyes would pop out if I shot him in just the right spot.”
“They don’t matter. You couldn’t wait.”
“But they were going to make such pretty noises.” Her eyes wandered. “Did you know that we make the most amazing sounds when we die? It’s like music, but better because you helped make it happen.” Her voice drifted. “Why’d you have to interrupt me?”
“I don’t care.”
“That’s your problem,” she said. “You’re ridiculous, you care about all the wrong things.”
Nathan ignored her and sprinted toward the city gates. Ahead, the guards signaled for them to open. He activated his cultivation, channeling energy into her with Ocean’s Kiss. His body screamed in protest—his reserves were already drained, and the stab wound in his chest still bled freely.
“I’m not being ridiculous,” he muttered. “You can’t die.”
“Oh, so I’m just a fancy toy, is that it?” Her voice suddenly sharpened. “Need me to explode for you next time? I’m damn good at making things go boom—”
“What? No! You’re my friend.”
Mara fell silent. Her fingers, which had been miming pulling a trigger over and over, went still. Her body was cold—ice-cold.
Blood dripped down his shirt, soaking into his pants. He gritted his teeth and kept moving. Around them, townspeople pointed and stared.
“Clear the way!” he shouted.
They scattered. His boots hammered against the stone streets until he reached the presidential palace—then he kicked the doors open and charged inside.
“Medic!” he shouted.
Hurried footsteps rushed toward him. The mushroom woman who’d been tending to Anand stared at the two in shock.
Mara’s eyes fluttered, but she managed to focus on the mushroom woman. “Your head looks like it would make a really fun sound if I popped it,” she murmured, her consciousness fading.
“We need to get you bandaged immediately, my lord—”
“No time. Help her first.”
The mushroom woman hesitated before nodding and scooping Mara into her arms.
Nathan staggered back.
“Lily?” he muttered. “Are you there?”
Her voice rang in his mind. “I’m here. I just didn’t want to distract you.”
“Patch me up.”
Lily froze. “Are you sure?”
“I’m certain. They won’t be able to help me. I need you to seal the wound.”
“…Okay. I’ll try my best.”
Nathan leaned against the wall. He felt her roots spreading through his body, weaving beneath his skin. A distinct horror settled over him as they emerged from the gaping hole in his torso, stitching the flesh back together. He shut his eyes and slammed his head against the wall with a sharp crack.
It was like worms infesting him from the inside. Even though he’d asked for it, regret clawed at him.
Pain rocked his body. He swayed on his feet.
“Stay awake,” Lily murmured. “I need you conscious.”
Nathan gritted his teeth and nodded, wincing as the roots worked.
But it was working. Slowly, the wound knit itself shut. By the time Lily finished, his breathing came easier.
“You know I’m not good at this,” she said. “Last time, I only did it because there was no other choice. You could’ve done something else.”
“I don’t have the energy to heal myself.”
“That’s not what I mean. You could’ve let the mushroom woman tend to you.”
“Then Mara would’ve died. I didn’t know where the other medics were.”
…Probably something he’d have to rectify.
Nathan slumped to the ground, his back against the wall. For hours, he watched as the mushroom woman and her assistants worked over Mara’s broken body, applying salves and spells to keep her clinging to life. Every so often, Mara’s eyes fluttered open—dazed, barely conscious—before slipping shut again.
A tap on his shoulder.
“It’s done,” the mushroom woman said. “She’ll live. Now, let me help you—”
“I’ll be fine. Already handled it.”
She glanced at the vines knitting his flesh together and grimaced.
“…I noticed.”
Nathan let out a sigh and prepared to strap in. He could already tell he’d be here for a while.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nathan’s instinct had been to hide in his office for the next two weeks. From the perspective of others, he was hard at work, but he knew the truth. He was just fleeing the consequences of his actions. The only thing he could bear to come out for was checking in on Mara’s recovery.
