Grand Game 443: Wolf on the Run (Patreon)

I didn’t fall to my death, of course. Midway to the ground my spell finished, and I released it without ado.

You have cast windborne.

Borne upon a cushion of air, I landed softly, but I wasted no time in setting off, dashing further north. I didn’t look back. I didn’t need to. My mindsight had already told me everything I needed to know: three pairs of closely entwined mindglows were in pursuit.

A trio of hellbats and their riders.

The doors to the fort were creeping open, too, and I knew it would not be long before I had more than the three airborne Devils to worry about. Drawing psi and stamina, I began casting my buffs.

“Prime, what’s happening?” Ghost asked from the Cloak.

“We’re fleeing,” I said tightly.

You have cast heightened reflexes. 

“I can see that, but why? I thought—” 

“One of the Devils sensed your spell—my fault that, I should have figured out that they might do so. Anyway, I had to kill him.”

“Oh.”

You have trigger-cast quick mend. 

Before the pyre wolf could comment further, a fireball sailed across the sky, lobbed down by one of my hunters. Sidestepping left, I dodged it easily, but I was not at all reassured. I could no more outrun pursuit than Ghost could and once more Riders took up the chase, the hail of incoming missiles would increase tenfold.

It was time to hide.

You have cast fade, blurring your form and making you 50% harder to see for 2 minutes. 

The moment the buff was in place, I threw myself flat. The surrounding grass was only knee-high but even that much would suffice to hide me. Wriggling like a worm, I burrowed deeper into the grass.

Six hostile entities have failed to detect you! You are hidden. 

I exhaled softly. Better.

So far, my escape plan was going off without a hitch. But I knew I couldn’t afford to stay still. Snaking through the grass as unobtrusively as I could, I kept moving.

A moment later, the earth shook as three enormous shapes hit the ground in a trio of thuds—the Riders landing. They’d touched down at the spot they’d last seen me which, thanks to my slow crawl, was already a half-dozen yards distant. They wouldn’t find me in a hurry.

“Where is he?” a Devil demanded.

“Hiding,” a second replied. “But he’s close. Axyl can smell him.”

Smell me? I didn’t like the sound of that. Axyl had to be one of the hellbats, I realized. 

Damnit. I should have popped a scent concealment crystal before going in. It was too late for recriminations, though. For now, I had to concentrate on widening the gap between me and my hunters. Then, and only then, could I see to masking my scent trail.

“Karri?” the second Devil prompted.

“Working on it, Cor,” the third Rider—Karri presumably—replied. “We’ll have him soon.”

Uh-oh. That didn’t bode anything good either. 

Worse yet, I could hear Karri chanting furiously under her breath. She was obviously casting, but what? A revealing spell—or something worse?

Damn and damn.

“Should I manifest, Prime?”

“No,” I replied firmly. I still hoped to escape my hunters without revealing Ghost’s existence, or too many of my own abilities, for that matter. But I also realized that if I was going to have any hope of evading pursuit I would have to take care of the immediate threat behind me—and fast. Already, I could sense more mindglows appearing on the roof.

Nothing for it then, I thought and drew psi.

It would’ve been perfect if I could simply sleep the trio and their pets, but my paralyze debuff was still active, and unfortunately, I couldn’t have multiple slaysight effects active simultaneously.

Which left only mass charm and my blades.

Deciding I didn’t want to show all my cards to the Devils just yet—the way things were going I would likely clash with them again—I rose into a crouch and shadow blinked.

You have teleported into Karrisen’s shadow. You are hidden.

I emerged from the aether atop the Rider’s hellbat. The creature stiffened, feeling the additional weight immediately. My target, though, remained oblivious. 

Wrenching back her head with my left hand, I plunged ebonheart through the side of her throat just as the hellbat chirped in alarm.

You have killed Karrisen, a level 170 witch, with a fatal blow.

Five hostile entities have detected you! You are no longer hidden. 

The black blade slipped into my mark without resistance. The witch had not seen to her defenses before setting out after me—a mistake that had cost her a life.

“He’s here!” the first Rider exclaimed.

“I can see that, you fool!” Cor replied. “Get him!” 

Tugging on the reins he held, the Rider Cor yanked his hellbat around while his fellow—more wisely—ordered his mount aloft. The dead Devil’s demonic companion, meanwhile, reared up on her legs, flinging me off.

Tucking in my limbs, I controlled my precipitous flight and rolled back to my feet as I hit the ground—only to find myself facing Cor charging me down with a drawn shortbow pointed unerringly at my heart.

The rider released. 

I dodged.

This time, not even my speed was enough to spare me entirely, and the shaft lodged deep in my right shoulder.

Corrigan has critically injured you!

You have failed a physical resistance check! Your right arm has been crippled. Your health is at 60%.

Agony rippled across my shoulder as the arrowhead tore through muscle and sinew to scrape against bone. The next instant, my right arm went limp, causing the fingers of my hand to open and ebonheart to fall free.

I ignored both my incapacitated arm and the dropped soulbound blade. Cor was still rushing headlong at me, a triumphant grin on his face. Karrisen’s mount was only a step behind while the other Devil was still winging aloft. 

No doubt, he was building height to crash down on me in a calamitous dive. But for now, he was no threat. Gritting my teeth, I unsheathed faithful with my left hand. Then, setting my stance, I waited.

A frown flickered across Cor’s face. Then in belated realization that I was not going to drop down and die, he yanked back on his hellbat’s reins and nocked another arrow.

He’d left it too late, though. 

His mount was not going to stop in time. 

You have cast piercing strike, doubling the damage dealt on the next attack.

Sidestepping to the right, I slashed outward with faithful as the hellbat rushed past. The startled archer raised his bow to fend off the blow, but the wooden implement was no match for the bright steel—nor for the fury of my blow.

The bow snapped. 

Leather armor tore. 

And a second later, Cor’s head flew free.

You have killed Corrigan, a level 174 parthian archer, with a fatal blow.

A furious red shape crowded my vision. Knowing what it was, I tucked my neck into my chest and braced myself as best I could.

Magx, a level 160 hellbat, has hit you. Your health is at 50%.

You have been knocked down. You are dazed (reaction time slowed). Duration: 3 seconds.

I flew backward. Even having expected the blow—and accepting it as the price for being in a position to kill Cor—it hurt. But despite the pain, I managed to keep faithful clenched in a white-knuckled grip. 

Magx was not done with me, though.

Rushing onto my downed form, the hellbat trampled all over me with its taloned feet while simultaneously slashing at me with its clawed hands.

Magx has attacked you. Your health is at 47%.

Magx has attacked you.  Your health is at 44%.

…

“Prime, let me manifest!” Ghost cried.

“No,” I growled. Making no attempt to shield myself from the furious assault from above, I drew psi. The spell formed more slowly than was its wont, courtesy of my dazed state. 

In the meantime, more blows rained down, but the pain barely impinged on my awareness. I’d grown used to psicasting under even the most difficult of circumstances.

The last spell weave snapped into place, and I blinked out.

You have teleported onto Axl.

I emerged atop Cor’s hellbat, still flat on my back. The creature stiffened beneath me. Ignoring it for the time being, I righted myself. Twisting my body around, I scissored my legs to grip the creature’s sides and heaved my torso erect.

Axl’s head whipped around to nip at me, but I was ready for it. Smashing the pommel of faithful against the hellbat’s snout, I caused it to flinch. And before the creature could recover, I buried the gleaming blade hilt-deep into its muscular neck.

You have critically injured Axl. Your target is bleeding.

It was not a fatal blow, far from it, but I was sure I’d struck a major artery. Wrenching faithful free, I rolled off the unwilling mount and left it to bleed out on its own.

I hit the ground hard, and the arrowhead, still lodged in my shoulder, was driven deeper still.

Your health is at 34%.

Biting back a yelp of pain, I rolled onto my back and craned my neck up, taking stock of the battlefield. Axl was stumbling around on my left, mewling in pain and no threat. High above, the last Rider had begun his dive, while up ahead, the other hellbat, Magx, was charging me down.

I squeezed my eyes shut. The battle was far from decided and everything could still go pear-shaped. Inhaling deeply, I took a moment to consider my next move.

Flee. Hide. Or attack?

But it was a false choice really. I couldn’t flee as I was. And with the blood pouring out of my shoulder, even a half-blind man would be able to track me. Attack it is.

My eyes snapping open, I drew psi. 

Magx drew closer. I waited. 

The hellbat ran over me again, stomping first onto my legs, then my torso, before coming to a stop with its feet splayed on either side of my head. I winced at each impact but, concentrating on my casting, didn’t otherwise react. 

This time, though, the creature didn’t bother to pummel me with its hands and feet. Instead, it opened its mouth wide and lowered its head. 

Perhaps it was a bid to keep me in place and prevent me from fleeing like I had before. I didn’t care. The move was an unlooked-for opportunity, and altering my plans on the fly, I readied faithful.

The hellbat’s head drew closer. 

Still, I waited, not moving until the creature’s red eyes were within inches of my own.

Now.

In one smooth move, I thrust my left hand upward, driving the sharpened tip of faithful straight into the surprised creature’s mouth and out through the back of its skull.

You have killed Magx with a fatal blow.

The hellbat collapsed, blood pouring out of its mouth and all over me. Trying not to gag, I dragged myself out from under the corpse and searched the skies.

The last Devil had pulled out from his dive and was circling high above. He seemed more circumspect than his dead companions, and if I had to guess, I’d say he was trying to figure out if I was dead—or still a threat.

It was the time for my last gambit.

Releasing the casting I held ready, I swamped the Rider’s mind with my will.

You have charmed Amatein, a level 166 lancer.

The spell executed flawlessly, and I wasted no time in relaying my instructions to my new minion. “Jump,” I ordered the Rider as I staggered upright again.

Obedient to my will, the lancer freed his feet from his stirrups and threw himself into open air.

You have taken hostile action against your minion! 

Control of target lost. 

Abruptly coming to his senses, Amatein screamed as he tumbled in freefall. Whipping around, the hellbat dove after the falling player. But it was too late to save the Rider. 

His death was already a foregone conclusion. 

Wrenching out the arrow from my shoulder, I drew more psi. It was time to heal up, recover my weapons, and quit the area.