Hack, Slash & Burn 2: A LitRPG Fantasy, page 30
Still, he couldn’t complain at producing ten times damage.
Calder also recast Mana Blade whenever he could. The cooldown was still a few minutes, but with his added points in Magic, he could keep the Mana Blade floating around him and slashing into enemies for forty-five seconds now, instead of the thirty seconds when he had first received the spell.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he could one day have the skill active for hours, or if he would be able to bring the time it lasted equal—or even below—its cooldown time, effectively being able to recast it before it was even gone.
He barely paid attention to the Mana Blade’s actions. It struck out at enemies all around him, taking them down one by one.
With Calder taking down the larger enemies whenever he found them, and devastating the lower-level enemies in turn, it meant the number of orcs that reached the rest of the Berring Touched could remain at a manageable level—at least, so far. He knew a sea of red blinking lights were heading toward them any time he had even a split-second to glance down at his Proximity Scanner.
Calder wasn’t the only one able to wreak devastation upon the enemy forces.
Though he could barely see what was happening around him as all the orcs were so damned tall, whenever he leapt up into the air, he was able to see the square behind him where the others were making their stand.
Over a thousand corpses already littered the cobblestones streets of the orc city, and it was getting hard to move. They had to make some of their swifter fighters run around with harvesting daggers, pulling out soulstones from one orc to the next just to clear some ground.
Though that wasn’t always necessary, as some of their stronger Mages possessed spells that could turn the corpses completely to ash, leaving only the soulstones and loot behind.
Calder’s sword swept through enemy after enemy, severing heads and limbs left and right. His shield bashed through skulls and sent orcs flying into their kin. Calder was a walking—sometimes teleporting—army. So far, none of the enemies here came even close to the strength of the Orc Mana Archer they had faced back in the orc settlement. Calder knew that was likely deceptive, however. This place was far larger than the settlement had been, and he couldn’t imagine them leaving it undefended by more powerful orcs.
Then again, what enemies did these orcs have to face here, other than Calder and his forces? The entire Dark World had been claimed for the Dark, perhaps for hundreds, even thousands of years. Chances were they had grown complacent.
Calder may have been able to take a single Nexus for the light, and claim one of their settlements, but that didn’t mean they thought of his people as a true threat.
They will soon enough. They’ll be forced to. Though as he didn’t know how strong the forces on this planet were, he couldn’t say if that was a good thing or not.
Right now, all Calder could see was red. His blade. Their flesh. Swords, clubs, axes and spears clattered and smashed against him. Arrows glanced off his armour, but many of them still packed enough of a punch to bruise the skin beneath it.
Still, his Sage Full Plate bore the attacks well, especially since Calder didn’t let any of the larger enemies land a blow on him. It was only when he was thrust into the melee, fighting against hundreds of orcs all tightly pressed together, that he took hits. Those hits were never enough to do him any real damage, and every Killstreak brought back his full health.
You have reached level 66!
Your health, mana and adrenaline are now restored in full.
You have 10 attribute points to apply.
Calder grinned as he saw the notification. Level 66! He was sure they had destroyed a quarter of the orc city for him to get to this point, but as they were splitting the Proficiency between twenty Touched, and the fact that the majority of the Darktouched they killed were of a lower-level than himself, it didn’t come as a surprise it had taken this long.
In fact, he was surprised he had gained a level at all.
This was almost beginning to feel… too easy. Even the added boost the orcs gained for being defenders of the city didn’t seem to help them at all.
He applied the attribute points as quickly as he could. Though he still wanted more points in Magic, considering the fight he was in, he wanted to even out his Agility and ended up throwing 5 points into it, splitting the rest between his other attributes.
Speed was always his greatest advantage, especially when he had Berserk and Charge active. Though he wasn’t able to have Charge active the entire time, he knew that adding 5 points into Agility had effectively added 16 points into it when both passive spells were active, coupled with the 10% modifier.
The added points only made his sword more swift. Only made his attacks more vicious. Howling roars, screeching screams, desperate war cries, all of the noises the orcs made were silenced by his blade.
The orcs are beginning to overwhelm the square, Graham told him down the link. If you don’t get here now, your people will start dying.
Calder gritted his teeth. He leapt, slammed a Shield Bash into the skull of a nearby Orc Dominator, then kicked off its head until he was high in the air. He whirled around and gazed down at the square, getting a good look at what was going on.
One of the barriers was down, and mayhem had been unleashed on his fellow Berring Touched. A Shield Carrier must have been overwhelmed, unable to recast the Barrier spell in time, causing another point of entry to open in the square—one right behind them.
That was where all of the Clerics, Mages and Rangers were situated.
Calder roared a war cry and Dream Stepped straight into the middle of the fray.
Chapter 36
Calder materialised in the market square where they were making their stand. He found a man on the ground, recognising him as one of the Shield Carriers, and pulled him back to his feet, pushing him toward Yesna as he looked to be fairly injured. There was a massive hole in his armour, exposing an open wound beneath.
That’s when Calder heard a roar far louder than that of the other orcs around them. In fact, it didn’t sound as though it was an orc at all. Was that a Dark Wolf? His blade tore through one enemy after the next. The orcs must have amassed at the back of the square, as though they had known this barrier was to fall, though he couldn’t see how that would be possible.
Unless they had an orc slip onto the roof. Calder cut down orc after orc, his flaming sword leaving their bodies burned and broken on the ground. Graham, how was the Shield Carrier struck down?
By an Orc Mana Archer that had reached one of the roofs nearby. Peter already took care of it. It knocked down two Shield Carriers moments before they were to recast their barriers.
Gods. The bastard orcs had figured out exactly what they were doing, identifying their Shield Carriers and taking two of them out. That’s why they had amassed here. He hadn’t expected that level of organisation from the bastard beasts.
Then again, he had known the orcs were smart. At least, some of the orcs. That much had been clear when the Orc Destroyer had locked them in Berring, preventing them from using any portals.
Calder had to take down as many orcs as he possibly could and ensure another barrier was created. They couldn’t fight on two fronts, and the longer he stayed on this side of the square, the more orcs would get through to them on the other without him thinning their lines.
Then an idea struck him. It wasn’t exactly innovative, as he had done something similar many times before, but he had to say he liked it. The very thought of it made him smile. He wondered what that smile must look like to an outside observer, as he was slashing through one enemy after another, blood spilling onto him then rebounding straight off his armour that remained infinitely clean.
He focused as hard as he could on the spot where the barrier had been. It was now, of course, completely overrun by orcs. Hundreds of orcs were pressed together, pushing forward, coming to meet the wrath of his sword—plus the myriad of spells and arrows striking at them from the other Berring Touched.
Calder slipped his sword through the heart of one orc, decapitated another, then gutted a third. He glanced up, saw a close rooftop, and Dream Stepped straight to it.
He focused on the areas he wished and cast Portal. He had to stretch his usage of the spell to its limit. The spell had of course gotten stronger and stronger as he attained more points in his Magic attribute, but what he was about to do was a level beyond what he had done in the past.
The portal won’t be stable. Then again, he didn’t need it to be stable.
In fact, if the portal collapsed, that wouldn’t be a great worry.
His mana pool reached its end as he cast the spell. A portal materialised, stretching all the way from one end of the street to another, where all the orcs packed in together were scrambling toward the Berring Touched fighting it out in the middle of the square.
Those orcs kept pushing forward, shoved by the ones behind them, unable to stop. They stumbled into the portal.
The twin portal, Calder had opened in the sky above the orc forces on the opposite side.
The orcs fell, crashing into and crushing their kin. Calder felt Proficiency from hundreds of dead flood into him as he thinned the forces on both sides.
Graham! he said down the link. Get one of the Shield Carriers—
Already on it!
The no-longer-injured Shield Carrier Calder had helped back to their feet rushed to where he had created the portal, casting his barrier spell as swiftly as he could.
The portal began to flicker, then it died out completely. Orcs stopped raining down from the sky, though the hundred or so that had been halfway through the portal when it had sputtered out meant limbs and half-heads were falling from the sky instead.
Calder grimaced at the sight of what he had done, but there was no time to dwell on it. He leapt down from the buildings—Dream Step still in cooldown—and launched himself at the enemies once more.
As he leapt, he heard the roar again. This time louder. In mid-air, he glanced in the direction that it came from. His eyes widened when he saw the massive beast that had unleashed the roar.
He had never seen anything like it before.
It looked somewhat like an orc, but far more bestial—which was saying something. It stood taller than any of the others—taller even than the twenty-foot-tall orcs.
No, this damned thing was twice their height. It didn’t wear any armour, but Calder wondered if it even needed it.
Is this the city’s main defender? A beast?
Before he reached the ground, he took the opportunity to scan the beast.
Orc Tyrant
Level 150
Classification: Beast Shifter
Attributes
Strength: 282
Agility: 250
Magic: 200
Stamina: 300
Perception: 100
Calder couldn’t help but balk at the attributes. Something about them didn’t feel right. The orcs seemed to only gain 5 attributes per level, even after level 50, unlike human Touched who gained 10 points for each level at 50 and above, plus the other gains they received from getting classes.
It was Beast Elementals that gained more attributes after level 120, wasn’t it?
It had made levels feel… less important as a signifier of strength than they may seem. The different races clearly progressed differently, which was one of the reasons they had been able to face so many enemies of a higher level than themselves in the first place.
Though Calder had never been able to scan any orcs above level 100 until now. The Orc Destroyer at level 200 had clearly been incredibly strong, but he couldn’t scan the thing.
But he was struggling to imagine this much of a drastic change to their stats.
Graham, are you seeing this? Calder said as he was still falling—with how fast he was, he could communicate a lot in the time it took to hit the ground, and Graham never seemed to struggle to keep up with him.
I am. This orc’s attributes don’t make sense. They are one and a half times as strong as they should be for its level, unless I am mistaken. However, I currently do not recall when orcs gain extra attributes per level. This amount simply doesn’t add up unless they have a tremendous boost.
I was thinking the same thing, Calder replied.
Perhaps it has something to do with its classification as a Beast Shifter?
Calder hadn’t even realised the orc’s classification, only remembering its name—Orc Tyrant—and its insane stats. Whatever it is, I can’t let it get to the square. He could only imagine the amount of damage this thing would cause were it unleashed upon the other Berring Touched.
He was falling back to the ground as he thought this, about to Dream Step straight to the Beast Shifter when two other howling roars sounded out in the city streets. He spotted another large Orc Tyrant behind the first, a little ways off.
Then a third behind it.
More roars sounded, even farther away.
How many of these things are there?
Calder groaned as he Dream Stepped straight behind the first Orc Tyrant. He materialised in mid-air above the back of its head. His mana reserve was extremely limited—he had only just been able to regain enough mana for that one Dream Step since casting Portal.
He barely even noticed the mana burn anymore, though that pain still burned within him from when he had expended his reserve creating the portal. A portal that had killed hundreds of orcs at once. It was quite a feat, but it wasn’t enough.
Not having any mana left his attacks somewhat limited, and if he didn’t get another Killstreak within a minute, Berserk would wear off. Still, he had time after all the Killstreaks he had just gained from the mayhem he had wrought upon the enemy.
Calder let a Power Strike loose, smoothly followed by Eviscerate and Bleeding Strike. With his Strike Advantage as high as it was, each of those attacks did ten times as much damage as they would have before. Even with 300 points in Stamina, Calder felt it should be enough to kill the bastard, even if he would have rather used Burning Devastation.
Yet the bastard still stood.
The damage seemed to have been… absorbed somehow. He had definitely hit the Beast Shifter, but the strikes hadn’t seemed to have left a scratch. There was a shiny sheen on the Orc Tyrant’s skin that he hadn’t noticed before, a slight glow he hadn’t been able to discern until he had seen it up close.
This isn’t good. Calder felt Strike Advantage fail. All of the strikes he had accumulated during the battle disappeared completely, which meant that even though his strikes had hit, they had been deemed “unsuccessful.”
Which Calder considered utter crap, though he couldn’t ignore the results. Or rather, the lack of results.
The orcs were packed in tight beneath him. Calder was about to fall on their heads. As fast as he was, he had a chance to send more strikes at his enemy before he had to prepare to face those below, but he almost didn’t see the point. His most powerful strikes hadn’t dealt any damage to this damned thing.
Before Calder hit the ground—or rather, crashed into the dozens of packed-in orcs beneath him—the glow around the Beast Shifter grew in intensity. It was a… black glow, more like shadows and darkness than it was actual light. Which was strange to Calder.
How exactly could darkness glow?
He got a bad feeling about that glow, but he didn’t have time to do a damned thing about it.
A pulse of power emanated from the Beast Shifter and struck Calder full on.
Calder didn’t hit the ground. Instead, he went flying over the heads of thousands of orcs until he slammed into the wall of a nearby building. No, not into the wall. He went through the wall, then through another wall behind it, until he finally crashed into a third wall and slid down to the cobblestones beneath.
Blood filled his mouth. It felt like every single bone in his body had been crushed. He lay on the ground, trying to move, but every inch he shifted brought immeasurable pain.
What the hell was that!? he asked Graham. There was no point asking the ghost to send him a healer. Who would be able to get to him where he was? He was way too far away from the others. Fortunately, he had crashed into an alleyway currently devoid of people.
Some sort of kinetic shield. I think it redirected the energy from your strikes back at you, Graham replied.
Calder, still lying there in immense pain, tried to spit the blood from his mouth but only managed to make it run down his face. It hit his armour and slid right off. At least that was still clean. If that were true… I should be dead. I don’t think I could withstand the power of those strikes.
Indeed. I think it must only reflect a percentage of the force. For a weaker strike, it most certainly wouldn’t have sent you flying.
So if I had been weaker, I wouldn’t be hurt?
Indeed.
Calder didn’t find that odd leap of logic particularly reassuring. He struggled to his feet. His body tried to heal itself, but for some reason didn’t seem able to. Or maybe it was able to, and it was just happening really, really slowly.
Your health is very low, Calder, Graham said.
Calder hardly needed to be told that. He fumbled his shield, accidentally dropping it to the stones where it clattered loudly. He had no idea how he had been able to keep hold of his sword, especially when it seemed as though every single one of his fingers was broken. This was only a percentage of my strike’s power?
It was hard to believe.
Calder, Graham told us what happened, do you need help? Peter said through the link. Calder heard the reluctance in the man.
No. Calder went for his pouch, prying open the flap with broken fingers. Ready yourselves for a retreat.
We can’t retreat without you, Cal, Yesna said. You better get back here.
Glad to hear you’re concerned. Calder slowly brought the potion up to his lips. He bit down on the cork, blood still seeping out from his mouth, and tore it off with a roar of pain. He opened his mouth, the cork falling out of it, and took a shuddering breath before forcing his arm up over his head so he could tilt the contents of the potion into his mouth and down his throat. I’ve handled worse pain. Though he struggled to recall anything quite so bad as this—even the integration of the upgrade to his Proximity Scanner, a pain that had lasted days, hadn’t been this bad.
