Manassassin 2: LitRPG Harem Adventure, page 23
part #2 of Manassassin Series
You shot the Abyssal for +84 damage and +77 damage!
Shrapnel damages you for +92 damage!
DeVante screamed as dozens of small fragments zipped toward
him. Few struck his chest piece, denting the armor in multiple places. The remainder, however, found softer surfaces, and easily penetrated the skin of his arms, shoulders, neck, and face. His hands shot up to his face, returning with blots of blood from the injuries.
“I require assistance!” Lildrith shouted, grunting as she fought to fend off the flurry of bone weapons that lunged and slashed in her direction. Even from the distance, he could see that exhaustion was settling in, and that the defensive movements of her scythe were slowing with each passing second.
With no body of water nearby, Kisha had nothing to offer, and Saraden seemed content to watch the Harvester struggle. Only one solution remained, and he prayed he was quick enough.
“Perry, widespread!” he shouted.
Blink +1!
Blink +2!
94/100!
Each attempt at the spell brought more pain, and wrapping his arms around the Harvester before Blinking to safety only served to drive the fragments of bone spikes further into the tissue. By the time Perry flew over and washed the two Abyssals with flames, DeVante was on the ground, writhing in agony.
The Abyssals hissed as the fire cooked them within their exoskeletons, and tore out of harm’s way toward the safety of the jungle. Perry gave chase, firing another widespread of flames over their backs, guiding them back toward the group. On the fourth pass, one of the Abyssals fell to their injuries, the other slowly clawing at the ground to rid itself from the flames. Lildrith stormed forward, stomped the monster’s head into the ground, then slashed through the small neck lying exposed to her weapon. The head was ripped clean from the torso, and the Abyssal only flailed its limbs but another second before falling silent.
“Why are you not healing him?” Kisha cried out, running to DeVante’s side while Perry touched down on her shoulder, his tiny
chest rapidly expanding. “His wounds run deep!”
“Should I heal him now,” Saraden called out, slowly following the Siren, “then the wounds would close over the fragments. Do you wish to see him struggle with a dozen bone fragments lodged in his body?”
“Then we shall remove them,” Lildrith hissed, nearly pushing Kisha aside to get closer to the writhing Sha’Kurian. “Has anyone a set of pliers?”
“I haven’t,” Kisha mumbled. “Saraden?”
“Miss Everheart, if you would,” she sighed. “No. It would seem my medical bag did not accompany me from the nether. Perhaps a small dagger? True the wound would have to be widened, but I could heal them all before he bled out.”
“Nothing small enough,” DeVante grunted through the pain. “The closest thing are my daggers.”
“Far too big for precise work,” Saraden sighed. “Fine, I open myself to other suggestions. Ladies?”
“Heal the wounds now, remove the shards when we’ve the tools,”
Lildrith offered. “He’ll suffer in the meantime, but he’ll live.”
“Do I get a vote here?” he grumbled.
“Wait, wait, hold on,” Kisha announced, looking back and forth furiously. “The water. I can use my magic to extract them if he were submerged. We should head back to the sea.”
“The river is closer,” Lildrith replied, slowly sliding her hand around his arm to find a safe place to grab him.
“And the river is closer to the Naga,” Kisha protested. “If they’ve taken control of the wyrm, then we risk facing a monster large enough to swallow each of us whole.”
“Couldn’t you make another minion to combat such a beast?”
Lildrith asked, opting to get DeVante to his feet, despite his hisses and moans.
“It takes both my spells working to make one large enough to fend off the wyrm,” she replied. “The sea would be safer.”
“And he could bleed out before we reach it, if the Harvester is correct,” Saraden chimed in. “DeVante, make the call.”
“Gods, fuck, I don’t care,” he seethed. “Just get these things out of me.”
“No need to be nasty,” Saraden sighed. “It isn’t our fault you chose to stand so close when you fired. Is he always this snippy?
Very well, unless anyone has a reasonable objection, then let’s get him to the river.”
“Famous last words,” Kisha groaned while circling the pair to take DeVante’s other arm. “Okay, you heard the Elf.”
Every step felt like he rolled in glass, and his legs refused to find a brisk pace. Even with the pair aiding his progress, the journey to the river was impeded agony. By the time the sound of rushing water found their ears, they’d slowed to a near crawl, and the blood pouring from the wounds was pooling in his boots.
“I suggest starting with the legs,” Saraden announced when they reached the river bank.
“No, he’ll be fine, and I can work quicker if he’s fully submerged,”
Kisha countered.
“What about the current?” Lildrith asked, her faceless helmet looming toward the rushing water.
“That is a problem,” she whimpered, her black eyes switching from one end of the river to the next.
“Well, where is the safest place to take him, Siren?” Saraden groaned impatiently. “This island is your home, is it not? Should you not know which way to go?”
“They don’t permit me to leave the temple often,” she admitted, shaking her head. “My meeting with DeVante and his friends was my first outing in almost a year. I know the temple is that way, but I swear there’s a shallow pool in the opposite direction. Half a mile, perhaps less?”
“Half a mile, in his condition?” Lildrith groaned. “He’ll never make it.”
DeVante didn’t want to raise the alarm, though his heart pounded each time words flashed before his eyes. He was bleeding out, and the size of the health numbers stated a decision needed to be made.
“Do it here, now,” he grumbled.
“You’ll be swept away.”
“Then do it in sections, as I clearly stated to begin with,” Saraden hissed. “Now, quickly, before he passes out.”
“Fine.”
Lildrith tossed her scythe aside, then nodded to Kisha before aiding the Sha’Kurian to the water. The pair ventured out, struggling
to keep their balance as the water rose to their knees.
“That’s good,” Kisha called out, standing behind the pair with the water only above her ankles. “I’ll get started.”
DeVante bit down as the shrapnel was ripped from his legs, swearing at the lack of lower-body armor found within the Sunken Temple. Blood trickled with the river’s flow, and Lildrith had to wrap her arms around his chest to prevent him from slipping away.
“You, Harvester.”
“What now, Cleric?” Lildrith snapped, her face straining as she fought to keep DeVante standing against the current.
“The fire from the dragon. Will they not see it from the temple?”
DeVante’s eyes snapped open upon hearing the words, and the
pain was shoved away to be replaced with dread. Slowly his head turned toward the Siren, whose solemn face offered all the answers he didn’t wish to hear.
“It is possible,” Lildrith admitted. “We must make haste.”
“Okay, okay, now his arms,” Kisha announced, her gauntlet hand outstretched as she controlled the water flowing against his body.
“What would you have the Harvester do? Hmm? Hold him by the feet with his head submerged?”
“Not bad. . .actually,” DeVante grunted. “Do it.”
“DeVante, I don’t know if your gills will form if your entire body isn’t submerged,” Kisha cried out. “We haven’t had time to test such things.”
“Then I suggest you work quickly,” Saraden muttered. “Tick tock and all that.”
“Can you at least heal his legs now?” Kisha asked, helping DeVante lift a leg while handing it over to Lildrith.
“The spell is not so precise.”
“You mean you aren’t skilled enough to focus on a specific area then!” Kisha hissed.
“No!” Saraden shouted. “I meant precisely what I said. The spell is not precise. Do not blame me. I’m not the one who created it.”
“The wounds are closing by themselves,” Lildrith announced.
“Even those with remaining shards. It must be now.”
DeVante nodded to her as she grabbed him by the thigh, then to Kisha who held the other. He sucked in a deep breath, then prayed the gills would form once his head was submerged. He threw his head back, and the rush of the water catching beneath his armor almost tore him free from their grip. He felt hands clutch around his legs, then subjected himself to be rippled by the current.
It took but a second to realize the gills were not forming, but the intense pain shooting throughout his upper body said Kisha was hard at work. Without the ability kicking in, he had to keep his eyes closed, trusting the pair to finish the work. Over the rush of water and pressure in his ears, he swore he heard raised voices. Twice he tried to open his eyes, but the sediment from the river slapping against them quickly forced them shut. After agonizing seconds, he felt the hot jab of the healing spell strike, and tried to lift his head out from the water. Each second ticked by with the spell burning through his body. However, what he couldn’t shake was that the water remained warm in between. Was it just his imagination? Was it just the effects of the healing spell? Finally, when he couldn’t stand not
knowing another second, he thrashed against the hands that held his leg, forcing his stomach muscles to work overtime while his head shot out from the water for a gasping breath.
With the mere second he had to suck in air, his eyes widened at the sight before him. Dozens of fins were in the water, which was lit up from a wide spread of fire from the tiny dragon flying away from him.
22
Just as Saraden had feared, the Naga saw the flame’s glow from the temple, and now an army swam in their direction. Knowing the others needed their hands free, he chose a random spot in the air, then performed the spell.
Blink +1!
Blink +1!
96/100!
The first spell saw him a dozen feet above the river, with a clear view of the carnage. Over a dozen Sharkala were rising from the scalding waters, several Naga sped toward the banks, and dozens of bones protruded the surface of the water. Just as gravity sought to pull him down, he chose a spot on the shore and Blinked.
“Everyone out!” he shouted, then winced as the next wave of healing burned through his body.
“There are too many!” Lildrith replied, slowly stepping toward the shore as three Sharkala closed in on her.
Perry made another pass just then, spreading a wide fan of fire over the river, forcing the Sharkala to submerge into the depths.
Knowing his friends were sitting ducks, he made the decision and prayed he’d the strength to carry it out.
Blink +1!
Blink +3!
100/100!
You have achieved rank 2 for Blink!
Max range increased by 100 feet!
Mana cost is halved!
0/100.
His entire body flickered for a moment, as though leaping in and out of existence as he placed the two women on the shore. Another wave of healing swept through his body, but he pushed through the pain and lifted his wrists.
The river was so crowded with targets that he didn’t bother aiming. Instead, he channeled what he prayed were powerful, yet controllable-sized bolts into each bow. With a shout, he unleashed the pair and sent the crackling bolts hissing into the water.
You shoot Sharkala #1 for 123 damage!
You shoot Sharkala #3 for 115 damage!
“Would kill for my old bow right now,” he hissed, already channeling another set of bolts.
“Summon your mana creature,” Kisha implored as the two bolts snapped the water’s surface, spraying the air with water when they exploded. “There are far too many to contend with.”
“No!” he shouted, blinking his eyes to brush away the words in his vision. “I’d be defenseless then. I’d no mana to Blink, or for bolts.”
Dozens of wide Sharkala emerged from the water, just before the first three Abyssals reached the shore. The fins in the water proved more Sharkala were coming, and the way the water rippled in curls gave away the Naga. He gave up counting, knowing they were
ridiculously outnumbered, with many of the foes too powerful for his daggers.
“DeVante!” Lildrith shouted and stood before him. “Count your losses. Live to fight another day!”
He was about to protest when he saw a wide figure in the river, spanning far into the darkness. Knowing death loomed, he wrapped his arms around all three women, just as Perry collapsed on Kisha’s shoulder. He picked a spot on the opposite shore, then started the spell as the wyrm's head shot out from the river.
Blink +4!
4/100!
Blink +4!
8/100!
Blink+4!
12/100!
Blink +4!
16/100!
By the time he let loose of his flock, the river was far behind them, and he dropped to his knees while gasping for air. Lildrith dropped to a knee before him, while the others were on their hands and knees to either side.
“You could have warned us,” Saraden gasped, drawing in air so hard he thought she choked. “That was positively. . .absolutely. . .”
Yet again he failed to recall that the stomachs of others hadn’t hardened as much as his. The two living women retched on the ground, while Lildrith staggered to her feet, her exposed cheeks beneath the helmet looking paler than usual. Several moments, and several inches of bile later, the group was finally upon their feet.
“As soon as you’re well, we’ll continue,” he announced, trying to breathe through his mouth so he didn’t pick up the scent of fresh vomit. “I think we could make it to the temple and slip within before that army thinks to return.”
“I think I’d much rather face the army,” Saraden groaned as she stood while clutching her stomach. “While our lives may have dangled in the balance, please refrain from doing that in the future.”
“I think I just threw up my toenails,” Kisha grumbled, the last to find her feet. “At least my spleen.”
“You’ll have to endure if we are to get ahead of them,” he sighed.
“Come on. It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“I haven’t eaten in ages, yet I too could retch,” Lildrith announced.
“Really?” he asked, an idea swirling in the mix of his long black hair.
“I’ve seen such looks,” Saraden pointed out. “You’ve the look of someone pondering plunging into the vast depths of foolishness.”
“That about sums it up,” he sighed and turned back toward the river. “Give me a second.”
He rattled off another four Blink spells, then four more with an unwilling passenger in tow. Kisha exclaimed an obscenity in a language he couldn’t decipher as he tossed the pale Naga female before them.
“Ladies, meet. . .I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name with all that screaming.”
The Naga female retched on the ground, adding to the same pile as the others. Kisha let out a laugh, then shrank when DeVante shot her a glance.
“Her name is Ulla, but I think you should just call her Retch,” she laughed. “What? It’s funny when it’s someone else.”
“Fine, Retch,” he sighed, returning his attention to his prisoner while lifting his wrist bow to her green and yellow face. “How large is your army?”
“I’ll never talk,” she hissed before retching again.
“Okay, I’ve no time for this,” he sighed, wrapped his hand around the Naga’s arm, then Blinked. This time, instead of teleporting a hundred feet away, he opted to go airborne instead, then Blinked back to the ground once she realized what was happening. “Now, the next time, I may just leave you up there. Am I clear? Yes, yes, please throw up some more before responding.”
“This form of punishment is too. . .cruel. Even for a land walker,”
she hissed, clearly fighting back her stomach’s urges.
“Still far better treatment than you deserve. Now, how big is this army? Generally speaking?”
“I’ll never. . .no, no, stop!” she screamed when he reached for her arm again. “A hundred Sharkala came, same for the Abyssals. A thousand Deadlights. Also, the Naga pour in hourly.”
“All this for me?” he teased, knowing the answer already.
“No, you fool,” she growled. “We amass in case that wretched Mana Demon goes back on her word.”
