Chapter 62
(Super Early chappy because I could. We're really far off from the 1300 goal. So, here's an early incentive. Wink. wink. Put your stones to use.)
Mordo's hands twisted, forming fiery Eldritch symbols, and he called to the other sorcerers. "Formation four."
He unleashed a strange, complicated spell that infused the ground outside our shield with bolts of energy that ricochetted from point to point. It slammed against a wall that suddenly sprang up in front of the charging horde of Fleshwarped at the very last moment. The bolt barely made it through, scorching half a dozen brutes, who impressively remained on their feet, roaring, trooping on.
A familiar beam of concentrated fire lanced followed, incinerating another spontaneous stone wall that was erected. The fire cut a swathe through two lines before coming to a hard stop when the stone skin on the monsters gained an otherworldly yellow light. It quickly faded along with the beam, but the sheen was powerful enough to dampen the sorcerers' fire.
My RPG rocket launched a second later, slamming into the Brute line and wiping out only six brutes.
Congratulations, you've earned 300 Red Orbs.
"Can't we just take this fight to the mirror dimension," I wandered out loud, watching as the beasts inched closer. I imagined how much easier it would be to just flip reality and put the majority of them on their ass. I switched out for Ebony and Ivory and activated Focused Shot on both guns.
"Limbo is currently occupying the space the mirror dimension should in the confines of this town," Mordo answered as he stretched his hands forth.
"Of course, it is."
"Are you ready?"
"I was born ready."
It was a bit earlier than I intended, and I was using more energy than I'd like, but this was always the plan.
Mordo opened a portal underneath the first line of Brute that reached our shield. All three of them tumbled to the ground from the air. As they shoved each other aside to climb to their feet, two heads exploded from my violent shot, earning me 100 Red Orb.
The third one roared at its sudden death and swung at me, but I ducked underneath its charge and watched in amused horror as one of the sorcerers in the bubble opened a portal mid-flight and promptly closed, splitting the monster in two. It fell to the floor, aghast and furious, screeching at the top of its lungs.
A brought down a Burst-charged Arbiter to its neck, relieving it of its head.
With a wicked smile, I turned to Mordo, who'd been maintaining the barrier.
Congratulations. You've earned 50 Red Orbs.
"I think we're ready for the next round."
No sooner than I had spoken did we spot an 8-foot-tall demon standing on a building behind the wave of hapless brutes. He had a strange club made from metal and stone, and his skin was as dark grey as rhinos but rougher. His chest, shoulder, knees, and feet were covered in chunks of earth that closely resembled bone. He looked down at us with his yellow eyes and grinned, waving his hand.
The walls of the houses closest to us began to violently shake and crack, and I immediately started to charge two focused shots. Four quick seconds passed, and the ground underneath us had begun to tremble. My bullets carved a crimson beam in the air, cutting a straight path for the Garok's head.
The monster's smile disappeared, and he tried to dodge, but it was too late. My bullets slammed into his chest, shattering the armor, and sent him stumbling back, but it wasn't quite enough.
The Garok waved his hand again with a snarl, and the shaking suddenly stopped.
Chaos followed.
Chunks of stone and debris separated from the houses and launched at our shield at dozens of miles per hour.
"Reinforce the shield!" Mordo cried as the stones hit. The ground beneath us split, and the shield flickered dangerously.
"Somebody get a damned portal open!"
I looked up at Garok, who raised his hand again, with a fierce scowl on his face, and a wave of stone covered the sky. They'd been launched by the second group of lanky-hand Fleshwarped, who've not attacked once this entire time.
Oh, that fucker was good.
When Mordo saw the approaching wave, his hand dropped in shock. "Forget the shield," he commanded, turning to the freshly opened portal. "We need to leave."
Three of the eight sorcerers hopped in behind Mordo, leaving me just a moment to glare at Garok before I went through.
"You're dead," I smiled. "You don't just know it yet."
Garok read my lips and snorted as we disappeared.
Jean
While Dante and Mordo were raising Hell in town, Kaecilius and I arrived at the base of the church.
My hand stretched out, hoisting the Mesmer in the air the moment we stepped out of the portal. This caused the ritual circle underneath the prisoners to sputter and fail.
The brutes flanking the Mesmer roared and charged me immediately but did not get very far before Kaecilius created an Eldritch whip and lashed out, sending both monsters stumbling back. They were reduced to stone and mulch with a wave of my hand, and I heard the panicked scream of the prisoners pierce the silence.
I turned to them and saw them all flinch back in abject horror.
"You can't do this!" The Mesmer raged. "Do you know who I am?"
With a wave of my hand, I threw him into the far wall, pinning him face first as I approached the frightened prisoners. It took a slow and controlled wave of telekinesis to open the cage.
The children among the prisoners started to cry, and some of the women stood up, ready to fight me if need be, but I raised my hand in surrender and spoke to their minds.
"We have come to save you," I said. "Some of your people are like me…mutants. They have special abilities."
A few of the women fell back in absolute horror as a nervous current permeated the crowd.
"You mean the god-touched," one young woman slowly said, stepping forward.
"Yes," I answered. I was tempted to tell them that what they called a blessing from a deity was a function of evolutionary biology, but I decided against it, seeing how nervous the tribe already was.
"There are millions of people all over the world like them, and I'd like to help protect you all and take them to a place where they can be with other god-touched."
The young woman, who seemed to have momentarily taken up the role of de facto leader, looked back to the group and back to me and then nodded her head.
"We will go with you," she said, "It is what our fathers and brothers and husbands would've wanted."
Kaecilius opened the portal to Kamar-Taj, where the Ancient One and a few other masters greeted the women and children. When they'd been all transported to safety, I turned my attention to the Mesmer.
I'd not forgotten why I was here. I was going to make him pay for what he'd done.
---
Dante
We emerged from the portal on the outskirts of town inside a small hut and immediately got to work.
"Mordo," I called, "Can you open a portal to where you saw Garok standing in four seconds right about there?" I gestured to a general area in front of me as I produced my RPG and started to load it.
Mordo looked at me like I was crazy. "You're not really going to—"
"Of fucking course I am," I said, hefting the launcher. I was not nearly as durable as I used to be. If I could weaken an opponent that could be stronger than me, why would I not take advantage?
The other sorcerers gave me a wide berth when the barrel of my RPG started glowing.
Four quick seconds passed, and I fired my rocket the moment the portal spiraled into existence. I grinned at the startled face of the Garok before the portal snapped shut.
We heard the explosion all the way from where we were.
"Shame, the launcher is gone," I said. I unsummoned the warped weapon and produced a pair of grenades instead with a wicked smile.
The sorcerers shared a wary look, and I could immediately tell what they were thinking.
"Would you rather go out there and face that ridiculous horde or thin those motherfuckers out before we get to crossing weapons?" I asked, then turned to a slightly amused Mordo.
"I think we should hit the middle of the throwers next," I said, tossing up the grenades playfully, "I only have a finite amount of the good stuff."
(Read ahead on Patreon.com/ArtandCreativeWriting)