Sole Survivor

The weight of the ancient gate should have been staggering. Ten inch wooden beams, bound together by thick bands of iron and bearing no apparent latch or brace, resisted the full impact of John’s thrown and broken body. But, as he braced himself against it, dug in his heels, and pressed hard, the door swung open as easily as drawing the curtains, revealing a city in ruins.

Dilapidated stone brick buildings rising two, sometimes three, stories flanked the roadway. Conifers grew through their rotting wooden roofs, and underbrush plugged their windows and doorways. Heaps of brick shards, the remains of walls pressed out by the encroaching foliage, gave ideal purchase to creeping ivies. Some forty or fifty yards away, dense rows of sharpened stakes jutted from crudely stacked piles of rubble, forcing any would-be traveler to siddle through the few narrow gaps in their construction.

Stepping gingerly through the rubble strewn path, John searched the overgrown entryways for signs of an ambush. He found, instead, a body, slumped against a wall and half buried in rubble. A suit of hide armor, clad in bronze scales blotched with a dull, teal patina, held together its skeletal remains. A straight row of holes, each an inch in diameter and rimmed in crusty scarlet powder, had been punched into its chest.

John stood there a moment and gazed into the vacant sockets of its jawless skull. His hands began to tremble.

Breaking the stare, he **** himself to continue on, thinking, ‘No turning back. You fight, or you starve.’

Beyond the barrier of stakes, the road opened into a large, circular courtyard, the unnerving sight of an ancient massacre. Dozens more bodies, crushed and mangled, littered the area. Saplings grew through the holes in their armor.

But what lay in the courtyard's center, filled John with awe and terror. The corpse of a giant, entombed in a suit of bronze plate, lay supine across a pile of rubble, its limbs sprawled chaotically. Its head hung so far back that only the tip of its chin was visible. An entangling mass of vines grew through the armor's seams. It almost looked as if it had been tied down and beheaded.

John gulped. ‘I really hope the boss isn’t the same monster that killed that guy.’

Steeling his nerves, John tightened his grip on his spear and stepped into the arena. A soft creaking groan echoed behind him. John glanced back as dozen or so trees withered, fell, and pushed their surrounding walls to crash with them into an impassable heap.

'Alright, where are they hiding?' John thought as he walked the periphery, searching for some sign of the boss and its minions.

'The little ones could get through the doorways, but the foliage is too dense for a blood hunter to squeeze through. Maybe they could jump down from the rooftops? Actually, that exposed second floor could—'

From the courtyard’s center, a synthetic voice bellowed, “Trespasser!”

John whipped around and watched as the giant corpse shook to life. It raised its head and fixed its cyclopean eye on him. The softball sized crystal, slowly orbited by a thin loop of gold, flickered with a cerulean light. The construct pushed itself forward, its armor shrieking as the metal ground against stone. Snaps and pops echoed through the courtyard as it ripped the binding growth up with it. Unsteady and hobbled, the giant rose briefly, stumbled, then collapsed forward to a knee.

‘Oh, fuck me!’ John charged the construct, **** to exploit its encumbrance. Arcane Flare wouldn’t trigger against metal, least of all bronze. The blade of his spear wouldn’t do much more.

The boss reached into the tangled mass below, and tore from them a halberd. The ragged edge of its axe resembled saw teeth.

Against his swelling panic, John pushed himself faster. He needed to reach the boss before it could bring that axe blade down on him. He needed to strike the only vulnerability he could find, the eye. If he could destroy it, blind the construct before it could even stand, he’d have a chance.

Too slowly, the construct whipped the weapon’s grizzly head into the air, high behind its head.

John primed the spears capacitor and pulled back to strike. He could almost reach it.

Just a few more steps.

In a motion as swift as lightning, the construct drove the weapon’s heavy iron pommel down onto the stones below, unleashing a blinding shockwave to wash over them. Its impact rattled the construct’s armor and robbed John of precious momentum.

John clenched his teeth till he feared they might crack and tried to **** his gaze on the faint blue light nearly washed away in a sea of white. But the pain overcame him. He blinked. Something broad and hard slammed against him and threw him backwards. His spear clattered to a stop several yards away.

Dazed, vision blotted with flickering colors, John watched as the tarnished construct rose to its full height, an eight foot tall metallic goliath crutched by its halberd and a bronze tower shield dotted with scarlet rimmed holes and adorned by a fresh splattering of blood.

The construct leveled its weapon with the ground and lurched forward. Its body rattled violently with each crashing step of its lumbering gait.

In a mad scramble, John leapt to his feet, raised his shield, and backpedaled away from his pursuer. A steady shuffle kept him beyond the polearm's reach.

‘Don’t panic. Don’t panic. You can still do this. Just don’t fucking panic. You just have to find some weakness to exploit.’

Artifice understanding bubbled and sputtered as John searched for vulnerabilities in the construct’s armor. The tower shield, as broad as the giant and only a foot shorter, obscured too much for his Skill to coalesce, but some small details could be gleaned regardless. Each step caused armor plates to slap against its frame with a dull thud. Loose rivets rattled in their sockets. An occasional, sharp ping of metal bouncing on stone echoed the crash of a foot fall.

‘The armor’s loose. If I can find a way to get close, I might be able to pry a piece off and rip out some of its internals. If I’m really lucky, I might find –’

Suddenly, the construct stopped, raised the halberd to its shoulder, lowered its shield, and stood at attention.

‘Why’d it stop? What’s it doing? Did I drop aggro somehow?’

The golden ring, softly spinning about its crystalline eye, began to accelerate, its pace matched by the intensifying glow within the cerulean orb and a rising electric thrum.

Subconscious understanding screamed, ‘Leg it!’ A wave of dread spurred his body to run before his conscious mind could understand. In blind panic, he darted to a waist high pile of rubble a dozen yards away.

The electric hum rose to a fevered pitch. A metallic bang echoed through the courtyard, and the world flared white for an instant. A bolt of condensed mana whizzed by John’s shoulder and exploded against a wall, igniting its wooden frame and overgrowth.

John kept running, terrified that the next shot might find its mark. He dove over a fallen column, scrambled to press himself tightly against it, and braced himself for another blast.

Silence.

There was no rising thrum or metallic rattling, just the pounding of John's heart and the puffing labored breathing.

Peeking over the column, John found the construct slumped against its shield. Its head and limbs hung limp, the halberd resting in the crook of its neck. The light in its crystalline eye was dimmed to near imperceptibility, and the golden ring crept slowly through its orbit.

‘The mana cannon plays by Hyper Beam rules. That’s… something,’ John thought as he fell back behind cover and laid down. He needed a moment to rest and plan.

‘Ok. OK. Just focus. Fighting it in melee isn’t an option. Between the shield, the halberd, and its shockwave, there’s no way I’m getting close enough to hit it. The mage spear is useless against it anyway. My best bet is probably to bait out another mana blast, rush in while it's powered down, and try to get under its armor.’ John looked over to the burning structure. ‘I just need to avoid taking a direct hit.’

Far away, on the other side of the rubble heap, metallic rattling started up. Crashing footfalls grew louder and louder as the boss drew closer.

’I hate this plan.’

John broke from cover and, at a brisk jog, led the boss through the courtyard, careful to keep cover close by. After about a minute, by John’s estimation, the construct stopped, raised its halberd to its shoulder, and began to charge its cannon.

John dove behind a nearby toppled column, tucked himself into a tight ball, and covered his head with his shield.

Almost immediately the electric thrum of the mana weapon waned to silence. Crashing steps resumed shortly thereafter.

‘Broke line of sight too soon,’ John thought as he pushed himself up and continued kiting.

Another minute passed. The process repeated.

John rushed to cover but remained standing above it, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop out of sight.

The thrum of the mana cannon rose briefly and then fell again.

‘Shit, it’s smart enough not to follow through unless it has a real chance of hitting me. I need to be more exposed for this to work.’

Again and again, starting further from cover each time, John led the construct into unobstructed portions of the arena, goaded it to charge its cannon, and counted the seconds as he dashed to cover.

Four seconds. Too soon.

Seven seconds. Still not enough. A stitch began to form on his side.

Nine Seconds. A metallic bang echoed through the courtyard. John glanced back over his shoulder. The construct had driven the rim of its shield into the ground and crutched itself against it.

‘It’s bracing for low power. That’s gotta be a point of no return.’

Something caught his foot. John tripped and fell face first onto a low pile of rubble. Pulling himself into a tight ball and his shield to his chest, John tried to roll behind the heap for whatever meager protection it could provide. The world flashed white. A bolt of condensed mana exploded against his shield, washing him in arcane fire and sending him ragdolling over the masonry.

After skidding to a stop, John launched himself to his feet and charged the boss, hoping to salvage the attempt. He was unfortunately too slow.

The construct jerked. The light in its eye flickered back to life, and the golden ring accelerated. It raised its head and, locking its gaze on John, snatched up its halberd and drove its pommel into the ground, unleashing a searing wave of magic that washed over both of them.

Pulling his shield to his face, John drove his heels into the ground and quickly backpedaled beyond the halberd's reach.

The wave crashed into him and pushed him back.

The construct rattled under the **** of its magic. Something heavy crashed to the ground, and metal pings rang through the arena.

Again, the construct leveled its weapon with the ground and began its pursuit, the rattling worse now than before. Pieces of armor slid over and flapped away from its frame. Rivets wobbled and shook loose under the impact of its footfalls.

A bronze plate fell from the construct's thigh revealing a sprawling network of silver veins embedded into the construct’s wooden skeletal structure.

‘Oh my god. Oh my god! Arcane Flare isn’t useless against it! I can kill it!’

John kicked himself into a jog, widening the distance between them, then turned about-face when the foot falls ceased. The path was free of any debris that might serve as sanctuary, only a few loose stones scattered by previous blasts. He clenched his teeth and tried to shut out the panic that would drive him to flee towards cover.

The instant the construct began to stockpile mana, John bolted, pressing himself as hard as he could muster, **** to claim every possible inch.

The light grew brighter.

The electric hum grew louder.

The world seemed to slow to a crawl.

As the construct braced itself against its shield, John threw himself to the ground. The world flashed white. A bolt of mana hissed inches above his head.

Spirit surging, John caught himself, pushed hard, threw himself back to his feet, and continued his charge with only a minor stumble. He retrieved the shield and mage spear from his inventory, priming the arcane warhead.

Just a few more steps.

The construct flickered to life. Too slowly, it whipped the grizzly blade of its halberd into the air, high behind its head.

John leapt forward and drove the thrumming spearhead into the desiccated lumber of its exposed frame. A brilliant plume of silver fire erupted against its hip.

“No!” The electric roar reverberated through the tarnished armor that still clung to it.

Pommel struck stone an instant later. The halberd’s shaft buckled, splintered, and snapped just below the construct’s grip. An oppressive wave of light washed over John. The tower shield’s blunt impact flattened his nose and hurled him away. His spear clattered to a stop just beyond his reach.

Through dancing blots in his vision, John watched the flames take hold. Smoldering embers, nearly snuffed out by the shockwave, rekindled deep in its wooden bones. Flaming tongues cut ravenous paths along its silver veins.

Although dazed, John pushed himself to his feet and said, “I did it. I actually got him. In your face, you walking dumpster fire!”

The construct reeled back its shield arm then hurled the mass at John. Discus like, the metal plate soared through the air.

Reflexively, John raised his shield to his chest and braced himself for the impact. But its path fell low. Its edge clipped the ground a few feet before him, sending it tumbling end over end and barreling through his shins. Bone shattered under the impact. A hot, damp sensation spread beneath his scaled pant legs. Bone reformed an instant later, leaving a throbbing pain behind.

No time to recover. The construct closed the gap in the fleeting seconds it took for John to fall and now towered over his prone body, its ragged axe blade held high over its head.

Quickly rolling onto his back, John narrowly dodged the first blow. The second, then the third, landed on his shield as he pulled himself into a tight defense ball. A flaming metal foot struck his shoulder, sending him spinning over the stonework.

The boss’ heel fell against the shield, pressing it into John’s chest and pinning him to the ground. The construct reeled back with its axe, but the limb, ember eaten **** to momentum, sheared from its socket and whirled through the air.

The construct stared down at John through a billowing cloak of smoke and fire. It pressed its foot harder on him, forcing the air from his lungs. The golden ring spun faster. The crystal’s glow intensified.

“Begone.”

As the electric hum reached its zenith, something in its neck popped, spewing a torrent of pale blue sparks. The flames pulsed with cerulean light as the accumulated mana tore an escape through the damaged component and shredded its upper torso. What remained exploded into a cloud of silver smoke, showering John in hard won loot.

Level Up! Congratulations, you are now Level 5.

Quest Complete