Chapter 124- TFF (Patreon)

With the shadows covering him, and the world just a bit bleaker if more welcoming to him, Alan felt powerful. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so deserving of being in his skin. All discomfort and doubt left him under the effect of his favorite skill.

As his feet pushed against the ground and he sent himself hurling toward the Doll, however, he realized that while it felt good, he wasn’t prepared for the improvement at all.

He overshot, dodging the surprised doll’s blow with ease, and ended up almost ramming into a group of fighters that had surrounded a few other dolls and were preparing to unleash their combined skills upon the void monsters. A man yelled and narrowly moved out of the way, while Alan was struggling to twist and dodge. He managed to stop himself short of ramming into the dolls and quickly retreated.

“My bad,” Alan said. His voice echoed as if it was coming from somewhere else and a whisp of shadows left his mouth at the words. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning ear to ear. The man nodded weakly, while the rest of his group were staring at Alan with judgment.

He pushed again, with a bit less enthusiasm this time, and a second later found himself slashing down at the Doll that he’d chosen as an opponent. His hand moved too fast and while the hit landed, once again, he wasn’t prepared for his own speed. It took a few tries until he learned to dodge without throwing himself meters away or swinging without bracing for the impact.

His shadow-covered daggers sank into the wooden flesh much easier. Last time he hadn’t been able to hurt the dolls with his normal skills, but now the blades cut somewhat deep. If it had been a human then some of the better attacks would’ve reached bone.

The Doll’s speed also became less of a problem. In fact, Alan felt as if he was much faster. The difference of about 30 levels between them didn’t seem like a gap anymore.

He twisted out of the way of a wide punch that could probably take his head and cut deep at its stomach. Then as it turned its attack into a hammering strike he jumped back, noticing that a vague outline of shadows remained where he had been a moment ago, and dove back in.

His assault was a mixture of dodges and light attacks, with the occasional double slash that created wide gashes upon the wooden flesh.

The doll didn’t mind at all, and its pattern of attacks remained almost the same as it had been. Had they always been so weak? So predictable? Or was he that much faster now?

His joy and overconfidence were short-lived as most of the shallower cuts on the wooden body of the doll quickly closed up. The Doll’s body then almost perceptibly shrank, becoming more compact and thinner.

It can do that?!

There was a significant increase in the doll’s speed, but he could still match it somewhat. Alan activated both enchantments and dodged a fast jab by leaning to the side, before slashing at its face. The doll bent back and kicked out, but he was already gone.

Alan slashed at its neck, however, the doll spun on its heel using its elbow to aim at his head. He cursed internally and stopped his attacks midway. It made his joints ache but it was nothing too hard to bear.

He was glad the dolls didn’t seem to have any other abilities. At least the basic type he was facing. The parasites were fragile casters, the shifters were strange weird things that were both physical and magical fighters, and the dolls were purely physical. It was quite a strange selection of opponents. As if it was created on purpose.

His thoughts were interrupted by a palm that landed straight in the middle of his chest. He managed to jump back in time, lessening the impact, and the shadows acting as his shield intercepted the rest, surprisingly without breaking.

Alan still flew back, the distance boosted by his jump in an effort to lessen the damage, and landed near Zirida.

He threw a glance towards the [Red Cleric’s] fight. She was handling the three dolls with a zeal that had been absent last time. She wasn’t just throwing swords and daggers made out of her own this time around. Her robe was gone, instead, she was dressed in a strange red armor he hadn’t seen before. It was a thin thing, slightly reminiscent of Kalyntha’s, but much softer in look. Two blood-sickle-like weapons were in her hands. They were dark and ominous, and Alan felt that he would get cut at the slightest touch of them.

The Dolls were attacking recklessly with speed no lesser than that of the one he was fighting. Zirida was moving like a red streak. Her two feet were planted firmly on the ground and each movement was made only out of necessity.

Alan had gotten acquainted with her style, although she had held back a lot in the spar against him. He took a breath and remembered all he’d learned.

Less unnecessary movements, stability, control, and most of all trusting his body. The last one was a particularly hard thing considering all his body had put him through. But those days were long gone.

He met the Doll’s charge with one of his own and their dance resumed. Weaving and slashing, dodging and ducking, it was a mess. Alan lost sense of time and place as his mind’s sole purpose came down to anticipating the doll’s next move.

Kick? Wide punch or a short and fast jab? Was it going to try and grab him, or was it retreating?

The dance went on for a while until his dagger sank sideways into the wooden neck. His eyes widened in surprise. The attack had been made only because it felt right. He hadn’t thought of the result or chased it.

A sudden thought made him reach out to the shadowy dagger. A sliver of will made its way into the shadows and they wiggled, becoming more solid. The already dark wood of the doll blackened further as the dagger sank more and the doll frantically swung at Alan, trying to get away.

He jumped back, avoiding the arm, and examined the result. Where the old wounds were mostly gone, and even the deeper ones were closing, the one on the neck and the few made from his flaming dagger were there to stay. The one on the neck seemed to be the beginning of a web of cracks.

That was a welcome surprise.

“Time to finish this. Thank you for the fight,” he said, his voice coming from afar. It sounded quite silly as the monster didn’t react. One of its hands was clawing at the wound on its neck. It was slowly moving toward Alan again.

He didn’t know how long [Monochrome Armor] had left, but he wasn’t about to wait and find out. Levels were waiting for him.

The daggers moved slowly diagonally, from top to bottom. The mana brimmed and the shadows shivered. When the doll was almost upon him, he released the [Shadow Slash] letting a massive jet-black blade ram straight into the doll.

It crashed into the monster with a sickening sound and took most of its head off. The right side of the chest was almost fully gone too, looking as if it had cracked due to time and death, breaking from old age, rather than because it was met with Alan’s attack.

He was growing to like the manifested will’s effect. It had been a bit underwhelming at first, but now that he got the hang of it, it had added a whole new element to all of his attacks.

A shimmering black core was revealed in the doll's shoulder and with a swift movement Alan reached and tore it out. The body fell to the ground, and the core was wiped and safely put away.

You have slain: Void Tree Temple   Doll (73)

Level up!

You have reached level 56 in   [Warlock]!

+ 3 Attribute Points

+ 1 Mind, Will, and Magic

---

Level   up!

You have reached level 60 in [Warlock]!

+ 3 Attribute Points

+ 1 Mind, Will, and Magic

Five levels were not bad, although he’d expected way more.

He looked around. The battles were still going. Dolls fell everywhere but they kept pouring in. The Void Tree would have been quite popular if there were so many of its followers turned into monsters.

He decided to use the time he had left of the first cast of [Monochrome Armor] and rushed toward Zirida, who was beset by four dolls now. Few lay dead around her, but more had joined the fight.

Alan picked the one that had its back fully against him. He caught Zirida’s eyes and grinned, then rammed into the monster’s back with his dagger as if they were a battering ram, and unleashed the charged [Shadow Slash].

The doll’s chest burst apart but it still had the energy and the presence of mind to twist its arm unnaturally and grab at Alan’s wrist.

He flicked his dagger and deflected it, then sent another cast at its head. A wave of blood took it on the other side, turning the appendage into an unrecognizable piece of wood. A small core fell from it and Alan put it away. He was sure Zirida didn’t mind.

Afterward, he backed off and took out his staff. It became a spear of twisting shadows and he used it to give Zirida some breathing room. The [Red Cleric] made full use of the opportunity and soon she had two of the three remaining dolls in pieces, while the fourth was finished by their joint effort.

Alan got another six levels from the ordeal, bringing him to level 66.

The leveling speed was slowing down considerably, but there were plenty of enemies around. He briefly considered rushing toward where Kalyntha was dealing death and tagging some of her enemies but decided against it.

There were plenty of dolls to go around and using them to practice what Zirida had taught him was a chance he wouldn’t have again after leaving the fractal and its monsters behind.

“You look weird,” Zirida said next to him. “Not in a bad way, just different,” she added.

“I do?”

Alan looked at his hands. They were pale, like each time he used [Monochrome Armor]. Faint shadowy whisps were bleeding from his fingertips and slowly rolling on his skin. Something that hadn’t been present before.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, and shadows once against swirled around him.

“You look like you’re burning with shadows. No, more like bleeding them.”

“So you’re saying I look cool?”

Zirida rolled her eyes, “Sure. It’s kind of cool. Is your skill evolving?”

Alan furrowed his brows. “I don’t know. Maybe? No system messages.”

Zirida nodded. “Skills are very individual and unique. It’s rarely a bad thing though, unless it sends you down a path you don’t want.”

“Eh, power is power. I skipped the specialization, so this is probably a good thing. Let’s go back to fighting.”

Zirida nodded and followed him as they moved to assist one of the smaller groups beset by a whole crowd of dolls. There were few of the red ones there too, and Alan felt excited at the prospect of testing himself against the new enemy.

He bared his teeth once again and not waiting for Zirida, as he was sure she could keep up with him, jumped into the fray. He opted to keep using his staff this time, turning it into a polearm.

Then, he had another thought. He covered the whole staff in shadows and made its whole length a single double-edged blade. The shadow blade disappeared and moved where he touched it, allowing him to grip it without cutting himself. It was a weird weapon but it served its purpose.

Alan opted to act like support, casting [Shadow Slash] from a distance with the boosts from the staff, attacking the dolls in their back whenever he could like an assassin, or drawing their attention and redirecting them when someone was overwhelmed.

It was fun and didn’t feel like a fight of life and death at all. Some looked at him weirdly as he weaved through the mass of monsters and outpost members.

[Monochrome Armor] wasn’t showing any signs of dissipating either. The whispers were growing stronger and sometimes their ideas were what allowed him to grab the upper hand.

It was a strange experience, but he didn’t mind. He already had a demon whispering in his ear, what were a few more voices?