Chapter 45

Dane undid his transformation as his ink-black metal half-plate coalesced around him from specks of darkness, blending with the night. The creature, still disoriented from the flash of light, could not react as his sword thrust at its head. Or so he thought. Maybe out of instinct, the black cat leaped away, escaping death.

Its yellowish eyes opened, betraying its position. Dane shuffled toward its side slowly as he maintained the same linear distance. The panther kept its eyes locked on him, dragging its paws on the ground to turn as he did, refusing to let him out of sight. Its claws screeched against the stone, creating sparks.

From behind it, Jeanne jumped out of her tent and toward the panther's neck, the tent billowing behind her. The Fallen's ears twitched, and it simply took a few steps forward, evading the attack. With a low growl, its tail lazily swept at the girl, sending her flying.

Crash. The sound of rock meeting rock resounded through the building, and Dane's heart sank. It was playing with them…with its food. "Flynn! Wake up!" he shouted. There was no hope of winning this. At most, he could delay a little.

The panther suddenly pounced at him with claws and teeth bared. Dane did not back away. Clenching his sword hand tightly, he waited. It was before him in a flash, almost too quick to see. But not fast enough. He phased through it.

At its side now, he returned to his flesh and swung the broadsword in an arc. The Ascended weapon dug into its fur and sliced at it but didn't do much more. Before he could react, its paw came down on his sword arm. His armor gave little resistance, barely stopping it for a moment before it was ripped apart along with his arm.

With a cry, Dane retreated. Luckily, his arm had already been mutilated before, and other than the thin tendrils that barely filled a tenth of his arm, his soul was not very present there. The gray fog wove his arm and armor anew as he sped through the cavern, away from it, toward Flynn's tent.

The man was awake, armed and armored. His eyes widened in shock at Dane flying toward him. He said something, but Dane could not understand. He linked his mind with Flynn's instantly. "We're under attack. We need to escape now."

Flynn clenched his spear tightly. "I know, we can't escape. It's dangerous outside. We won't get a hundred meters away before being reduced to dust."

Dane gritted his teeth, not in the mood to argue. "Then what?" he asked, watching Jeanne get up and block the panther's path from the corner of his eye. In the darkest depths of his mind, he entertained the idea of abandoning the two of them. His chances of escape were high. Their chances weren't. That thought, coupled with the intensity of his fear and the desire to wander away, was almost enough to convince him. He undid the transformation, taking in a deep breath. He wasn't going to let them die just like that.

Flynn spoke, "...you and Jeanne lure it toward the tent. I'll try to get one up on it."

Dane looked at the man, considering. Exhaling, he took Flynn's hand and gave him the sword. "It's an Ascended sword. The enemy is a Fallen Beast. You'll need it to kill it."

Dane had no reservations about lending the man his weapon. Flynn was the strongest among them if one only counted how many soul shards they absorbed. Furthermore, he was the only one the panther did not know about.

His thoughts flitted about, considering various things, and he arrived at that conclusion. The nightmare creature's sense of smell was impeded by the cold, and Dane could barely hear anything other than the quakes of the eternal battle. The same should hold for the creature. Flynn might as well have been non-existent to it.

Flynn nodded. Dane felt a spark flow through his hand as various memories entered his Soul Sea. "They're half of my cold-resistant memories and my spear. I'm counting on you," the man said sincerely, his lip curling.

Dane nodded. Transforming once again, he summoned the Awakened spear and a few amulets that wrapped around his neck. Dane conjured the Mercurial Maw.

Dane flew forward, circling a little to create momentum. Then, he returned to his flesh and felt the force beckoning him to spin. Planting his feet into the ground, he swept and threw the battle ax with everything he had. The creature, whose back was to him as it cornered Jeanne, sensed it, its ears twitching. It tried to leap out of the way, but the ax was too fast. It grazed its skin under one of its forelimbs. Dane hoped to dear life that the venom had entered its system.

Contemplating, he nodded to himself. He transformed, illuminating the surroundings with bright light and white sparks as he appeared before the creature, spear in hand. The Fallen was not slow, and it leaped away from him, aware that it could not attack.

Dane phased past it and floated with his back against the wall beside Jeanne, garnering its attention and making it turn around. He passed on the plan to Jeanne in the moment of reprieve. The creature's mouth dribbled with drool, looking at them hungrily as it slowly padded forward. He watched the space behind it. He shouted aloud a barbaric battle cry as he charged.

As he flew forward, his light and sound became the center of its attention. It was unaware of the Ashborn Stalker that finished manifesting out of a shower of bright sparks. It barreled toward it with a low growl, swiping both paws against its rear.

The panther might have been of the Fallen rank, but its frame was lithe, agile, and slender. The Ashborn Stalker was bigger and likely heavier. It was forced to the ground under the bear's savage force, and Dane heard the sound of a bone cracking.

Human again, Dane thrust the spear. The panther, though in pain, noticed him. It caught the blade with its fearsome fangs. The spearhead broke, but Dane persisted, spinning the splintered wood shaft in his hand and viciously lashing it against its eye. With a yelp, the creature recoiled.

Dane was about to deliver another strike when the creature weaseled out of the Stalker's grasp with a roll. Acrobatically, it got on its feet and pounced with speed the Stalker could scarcely see. Its fangs ripped into the Echo's neck. It moved its head viciously, pinning the Ashborn Stalker down with sharp claws. The neck was torn apart instantly. At the same time, its tail whipped at Dane's side, throwing him away in a mess of broken ribs and bones.

Jeanne retreated away from it, not daring to get close.

Dane had landed near the tents, and he was in bad shape. Most of Dane's chest cavity had been broken, bones piercing his lungs and other organs, and a few shards were scathing against his heart, sending piercing pain through him. He convulsed, barely able to move. His spinal cord had also been severed, though it was healing slowly.

He dismissed his Echo, which was on the verge of destruction, with a passing thought, unable to do much else. He could barely think.

Jeanne was by his side, trying to drag him away…so she wouldn't abandon him, even now. He was ashamed of the fact that he even considered leaving them.

The creature padded closer slowly, its mouth open, revealing strips of flesh and blood-stained fangs, glistening with drool. Its yellow eyes were orbs of malice and amusement, appeased with the 'chase' they had offered. 'Damn it,' he thought. This was the difference between ranks. But he waited. The creature was yet to cross Flynn's. At the same time, Jeanne had dragged him close to the exit. He forced himself to be calm, relying on Storm-Forged. He shut out everything, waiting. This was the only chance they had. He was still healing, and it was torturously slow, he felt.

When it passed by Flynn's tent, the man erupted through the cloak, thrusting the Basket Blade into its chest. The creature let out a pained cry before rage filled its eyes. It lashed out at Flynn with a paw. He had anticipated it. Yet, he was too slow. It caught him on his abdomen, and he folded like a ragdoll as his armor produced a sickening crunch. He was sent flying back, crashing into Jeanne and Dane.

Coughing as he readjusted his position, forcing himself onto his elbows, Dane watched the Fallen and his comrades from the corner of his eyes. All three of them were terrified, shivering in fear. It was the end of the road for the cohort.

The panther sauntered toward them now, relaxed. The sword protruded from its body. Flynn had missed all the vital organs, it seemed. Dane sighed, sorrowful. He had to leave them now. He willed himself to transform…but he couldn't. Dane's concentration fell apart, and Storm Foged's emotional prowess went out of his control. His hair stood on end.

His heart was in his throat, and his throat was dry. Cold sweat seeped down his back as he tried to back away, but he was far too hurt. He could only writhe in agony as he shifted back a few inches.

Dane tried to transform again and again as the creature came closer. Its yellow eyes were all he could focus on now. No matter how much he willed himself to lose his flesh, he couldn't.

He looked down at himself, at his soul. It was damaged terribly. In quantifiable terms, there was only a fifth of his soul left. Every time he tried to transform, his soul visibly pulsed…trying. But it failed. It lacked the power. It was also why he was healing so slowly.

"No, no…" he rasped laboriously. He had no more tricks, no plans, and no power. There was nothing he could do, and that scared him. He tried moving to no avail, and the creature had come close enough to stand right over him. Its spittle dripped on his face.

Its jaw widened and wrapped around his throat. He could feel the jaws scratching against his skin. From so close, he could see the muscles tense. Tears were in his eyes, and he held back the choking sobs that had gathered. It was the end.

Just then, Jeanne said something. Lying on her back with Flynn pinned on top of her, she said something. He did not understand it. He wanted to understand it. If the last thing he heard were human words…maybe it would go better. His armor, which had barely survived, was still intact. He was about to connect his mind with hers when his eyes widened.

A flash of genius struck him, and his heart beat harder than ever. His armor's telepathic enchantment! It was a gamble. There was no guarantee. Maybe, he could…

With the fangs already drawing blood, he had no time to waste. His eyes fixed on the panther, and he linked their minds. He spoke no words. Instead, he imagined a tune. A cruel, eerie, mysterious whistle reverberated through the panther's head. The same one that had been carried over the wind. The whistling of the creature that slaughtered thousands of Corrupted and Fallen in an afternoon.

The panther froze, its hackles raising at a maddening pace. Dane could feel its throat bob up and down all too clearly. It looked around, its eyes darting through the cavern at impossible speeds. Its fangs scraped against his throat, drawing more blood. It was trembling.

Without sparing a second, it let go of his throat, tensed its muscles, stepped over them, and darted out of the building through the crawlspace behind them.

Dane remained silent for a few seconds, raised his hand, and touched his throat, feeling the sticky drool and his thick blood, as well as the gashes. He let out a chuckle.