Great. Just great. I finally get Morrelia to come out here, and she’s berserking. I’m hardly likely to get a decent conversation out of her at this point. So does this mean I’m going to have to fight, make it look convincing, while she goes full wild-style?
That’s… not going to be easy.
For starters, I let my mind constructs pelt her with water bolts, a near endless hail of compressed water balls that slam into her armour with loud, concussive blasts.
Not that it seems to bother her. Despite hitting like a well-swung hammer, they barely move her. Once she’s back on her feet, the blades come up, gleaming with red light, and she starts slicing through my magic as she draws closer.
Oh, you’re approaching me? Are you sure that’s a wise idea?
It probably is, it’s not like I can deploy a void chomp without worrying about biting her in half. Irritated by how complicated things have gotten, I trigger my regeneration gland to start healing my leg. My mobility is a bit shot at the moment, which means I’ll have to fight more directly. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but Morrelia’s sword strikes… are nasty.
Her moves aren’t nearly as artful as what the Folk can bring to bear, but they’re still extremely effective. The fact she was able to shear through my leg while off balance in mid-air is a little worrying. She might be the first person I’ve fought in Freehill who can actually damage my carapace.
[Alright then, bring it on! You want a piece of this? Come and get it!]
No more piddly basic spells. I throw away the elemental magic I’d conjured and start focusing on something a little more spicy. Given a little more freedom, Morrelia goes back into dash mode. Considering how bulky that armour is, she moves with lightning speed. Is this what Legionaries are really capable of?
Once again, the twin blades flash, but I don’t flinch. Instead, I charge in headfirst, angling my body expertly to deflect the blow.
When the sword light strikes home, I’m stunned. It’s unbelievably heavy, and indescribably sharp. Like twin shards of pure rage, they slam into my carapace and start to bite into the gravity compressed diamond. It’s not enough. Despite cutting deep, the blows are absorbed, and my strength, size and mass is simply too much to be knocked back by her strikes. I dash forward, jaws wide.
CHOMP!
I don’t use any Skills, out of fear of causing permanent damage, but I use as much of my raw physical strength as I dare. My physical jaws slam shut on the Legionary with terrific force, and for a moment, I’m worried I might have gone too far.
Except… she’s fine. And there’s a chip in my mandibles! What the heck did they make this armour out of?!
Two blades stab forward, sending sword-light spearing towards my eyes, and I have to stop, drop and roll. Letting Morrelia hang in midair, I release my grip, duck and get the heck out of the way.
[Dammit, Morrelia! You’re becoming just as ridiculous as your dad!]
That guy was scary as heck, and pretty much cut me in half. Not fond memories.
The moment those words ring out over the mind-bridge, the burning, rage-filled energy surrounding the fighter dims, ever so slightly, and a coherent thought comes back to me at last.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
[You’re lucky you never met my mother,] Morrelia says.
At last! I’ve finally broken through!
[About time! Is this the way you treat your former allies? You cut off part of my leg!]
[You bit me.]
[You’re fine! I didn’t even use a Skill!]
I can hear her rueful laughter over the bridge.
[Anthony, how in the Dungeon did you get so big?]
I mean… that’s obvious isn’t it?
[I evolved. You’re part of the Abyssal Legion, right? Aren’t you all supposed to be experts on Monsters? I’m tier seven! I’m mythic! Of course I’m big!]
We can converse a lot faster with thought than people can verbally, but that doesn’t mean we can stand around gabbing with everyone watching. Morrelia steadies herself and brings up her blades, sending a flurry of slashes my way, which I take on my left side before unleashing several powerful blasts of force magic, trying to push her back.
[Aren’t you the one who’s gotten unreasonably strong? What have they been feeding you, Biomass?]
[Of course not. I’ve been training. Hard. Although, you could also say I had the talent for it from the beginning.]
We continue to fight, doing our best to put on a good show as we converse.
[As nice as it is to see you again, Morrelia, I kind of wish you didn’t turn up with a death squad. I don’t think I’ve done anything so nefarious as to deserve this kind of treatment.]
Even behind her helmet, I can tell she has a grimace on her face.
[There are some things the Legion won’t let go, no matter what. They told me… the Dungeon Seers said you had heard the Call. Is that true?]
[Heck yeah, it is, and I hate it! Have you ever had a fishhook lodged in your insides? Just constantly yanking and pulling until you think your guts are going to fall out of your body? It’s like that.]
[Oh, Anthony. I’m sorry.]
[Hey, it’s not your fault. It’s not so bad while I’m here on the fourth, but I suppose it’ll keep getting worse over time. If I ever get down to the Ancients, I’m going to give them a chomp or two, I can tell you that much!]
[I didn’t mean that. Although the pain must be terrible, so I’m sorry for that as well. No, I meant the prophecy. Twenty monsters will destroy the world. The Legion believes that if the twentieth Ancient ever rises, it will mean the end of the world. And they aren’t the only ones to think so. As long as the Ancients themselves think you’re qualified, they won’t leave you alone.]
[You mean the Legion is going to chase me into the fifth even faster than the Call can drag me there? Kind of feels self-defeating, doesn’t it?]
[Wait, you’re going to go into the fifth? Can you even survive there?]
[Of course! Are you underestimating the Colony again? We’re going to get in there and purify the whole place, mark my words!]
[That would be… quite the achievement.]
We continue to trade blows, and I have to say, Morrelia is strong. Really strong. Perhaps she can’t shape the sword light as well as the ninth swords, and lacks their grace, but she is an engine of destruction. Fast, powerful, her blows are razor sharp and heavy as a concrete truck. I don’t know if she’s on a blademaster’s level, but she is definitely the strongest I’ve fought in Freehill.
[How’s Enid?]
[She’s still kicking, though her health is on the decline. She retired from the village and is relaxing in our mountain here on the fourth.]
[That’s good to hear. She’s a remarkable woman.]
Eventually, I decide to stop mucking around and bust out the gravity magic. The Legion can hear all about it from the Folk, so it’s not like I can hide it from them.
Trapped in place, Morrelia is forced to give up the fight.
[Gweheheheh. Still got a few tricks up my sleeve. Yeah, there’s a few people from Renewal kicking around the place. Beyn is still alive… somehow. In fact, there’s a few here with me now.]
Morrelia rolls her shoulders as the weight of the gravity well is released.
[As long as Isaac isn’t here. That guy drove me nuts.]
[Isaac? He’s here.]
[What?! WHERE?!]
[He’s behind you.]
[Nice try.]
[Nono, for real.]
[You expect me to turn around and AGAAA!]
“Fair Morrelia. The sight of you is like fresh mountain water as I lie dying of thirst!”
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