Grand Game 463: The Upper Hand (Patreon)

The three follow-up tentacles hit me in rapid-fire fashion, wrapping about my arms and torso. Then, they too, began sucking away my life. 

Even though I was still invisible, they seemed to have had no trouble anchoring themselves on me. Hells! How am I going to—

You are no longer stunned.

I moved immediately. Rolling to the left, I got my legs under me.

4 slime tentacles have drained 2.6% of your health (1.4% damage reduced).

Staying bent double—with the vague idea I’d be able to avoid being struck by further tendrils that way—I staggered forward. Or tried to. Hitting a hard surface—a fighter’s armored breast, I realized, belatedly—I was violently flung backward.

“Bastard! We got you now!”

“I can see him!”

“Quick, kill him before gets away!”

Jerking my head upward, I looked around. I was surrounded, the Riders having used my momentary incapacitation to form a tight-knit circle around me. Worse yet, I’d been revealed. Or rather, the four tentacles sucking away at my life were giving away my position.

Beyond the circle, I spotted Ghost. She was frantically trying to break through with no thought for her own safety and was sustaining huge swathes of damage as a result. “Unmanifest!” I ordered her.

“But—” 

“Now!”

She didn’t respond, but I felt her spirit begin to unravel. I exhaled in relief. “Good. When you’re back in the Cloak, I want you to—” 

A fireball roared through the air.

My movements hampered by the tentacles, I barely stumbled out of the way.

You have evaded a fireball.

4 slime tentacles have drained 1.95% of your health (1.05% damage reduced, 1% resisted).

“Hey! Watch it, that hit my shield!”

“You said kill him! How am I supposed to do that if I don’t—”

“No projectiles,” someone else interjected firmly. “Melee weapons only. Fighters, get in there and kill him!”

4 slime tentacles have drained 1.3% of your health (0.7% damage reduced, 2% resisted).

Ten fighters—about a third of the remaining Riders—stepped into the open space around me. Watching them warily, I backed away from the closest. With my arms, neck, and torso bound, I was in no position to engage in swordplay yet. I would be, though. 

Soon. 

4 slime tentacles have drained 2.6% of your health. 

Ghost has unmanifested.

“You see that? The stygian is gone! Where’d it go?”

“Who cares? It was a summon. The spell must have lapsed.”

“I don’t know… It didn’t look like one—” 

“Forget the damn stygian!”

4 slime tentacles have drained 1.95% of your health. (1.05% damage reduced, 1% resisted).

“Shouldn’t we hit him with more disables?” someone else asked. “You know, just in case?”

“Good idea. Emery, Gale, target him with your—” 

“I’m back,” Ghost reported breathlessly—and somewhat unnecessarily. “What next?”

“On my word, I want you to manifest again,” I replied. Taking my gaze off the approaching fighters for a split-second, I focused on a group of spellcasters on my right flank. Emery and Gale were amongst their number. “You see those mages?”

“Yes.”

“They’re your targets. Kill them as quick as you can.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Void thief is about to trigger.” 

And no sooner did I voice the words than the expectant Game messages flashed for attention.

Void armor charge remaining: 70%. Health remaining: 60%.

Void thief triggered! 

You have acquired the channeled spell, slime tentacles (stolen), and will retain memory of it for the next 12 hours. 

Slime tentacles (stolen) is a tier 4 spell that grants the caster control of 4 Dark tentacle constructs. Once released, the tentacles will latch onto any hostile lifeforms in the vicinity, restricting their movements and injecting the victims with a foul darkness that both slows and kills. The tentacles will remain active for as long as the caster channels the spell. 

My sigh of relief was more palpable this time. 

Despite the efforts of my void armor, the tentacles had inflicted major damage. It could have been worse too had I not resisted some of the spell’s effects. Tier four or not, the tentacles were a lethal Dark magic construct. 

But not to me. Not any longer.

Void siphon and negate activated!

4 slime tentacles have failed to harm you. You are immune to their effects.

A split-second later, the coils of inky darkness loosened and fell lifelessly to the floor.

The advancing Riders paused.

“What happened?” a perplexed fighter asked. “Did you stop channeling the spell, Dona?”

“I didn’t,” an equally confused Dona replied. “He negated it somehow.”

“But that means—” the fighter began.

His words cut-off as I plunged ebonheart through his throat. “Now, Ghost,” I ordered.

Ghost has cast explosive manifest. She has 60% mana remaining. 

Flames, accompanied by screams of agony, erupted behind me. Ignoring them, I waded into battle. Ghost and I had the upper hand again.

And this time, I didn’t intend on losing it.

✵ ✵ ✵

You are hell-tracked. Remaining duration: 43 minutes.

You and Ghost have reached level 220!

For achieving rank 22, you have been awarded 1 additional attribute point and 1 Class point.

Your light armor has reached rank 16, your thieving rank 15, and your null force rank 8.

Ghost’s death magic has reached rank 2, and her ash armor rank 8.

A few minutes later, the battle was over. 

I’d taken a few more hits during its course, reducing my overall health to just a fraction below fifty percent, but that mattered less than did the fact that Ghost and I had triumphed. 

The one hundred and fifty Riders that had formed part of Titus’ group had been wiped out.

And just as importantly, Ghost and I had gained four levels. That equated to nine attribute points—and one Class point. All of which I intended to put to good use before the next encounter.

We might just survive this yet.

Cleaning my blades, I renewed my buffs. “Ghost, check out the east entrance.” That was the one going down to the second floor. “Don’t show yourself,” I warned. “Get close to the door and tell me what you can hear—and smell.”

I would’ve preferred to scout out the entrance myself, but hell-tracked would reveal my movements, and I didn’t want to unwittingly force the Riders into another attack—not yet. Then, too, thanks to her draining bite, Ghost was in better shape than I was and therefore less at risk.

Cutting a circuitous path around the room, the pyre wolf slunk along the feeding chamber’s right wall. Coming up to the doorway, she slowed further, dropping onto her belly as she inched forward.

“I hear four voices,” she reported a foot from the door. “They’re coming from below.”

Four. Good. Four were no threat. “How far away are they?” 

“Not close,” Ghost replied. “It sounds as if they’re at the bottom of the stairwell.”

“What are they saying?”

Ghost listened intently for a moment. “They’re debating whether to come up and investigate or report to Malikor.” She paused, cocking her head to the side. “They seem uncertain about what happened to their fellows, but the silence worries them.”

I grinned. Even better. “Are they alone?”

The pyre wolf wrinkled her nose. “I can pick out eight… no, ten scents.”

A full squad then. Titus’ rearguard or sentries set to guard the second floor? I wondered.

“They’ve decided.”

I tensed. “Go on.”

“They’re sealing the doors at the bottom of the stairs. They’re going to report to Malikor.”

Chuckling softly, I sheathed my blades. My gambit had succeeded, and I’d bought some valuable time. But I didn’t kid myself. The Riders would return, and when they did, it would be with a force many times larger than the previous one.

I would have to be ready. 

“Let’s retreat to the stables,” I told Ghost when she rejoined me.

The pyre wolf raised a bloody snout to study me. “What about the bodies?” She nudged an armored corpse. “Don’t you want to search them?”

I did—dearly, but I didn’t think we had the time to spare. “First we regroup, and if the next force of Riders still hasn’t found us by then, then we can loot the corpses in the stables.” There were a lot more bodies there, anyway.

Shrugging fatalistically, the pyre wolf followed on my heels as I led the way back into the south stable wing.

✵ ✵ ✵

The first thing I did on entering the stable was to re-equip all my remaining gear. Then, while Ghost kept watch, I saw to my player progression.

Your Dexterity has increased to rank 105. Other modifiers: +24 from items.

You have upgraded your whirlwind ability to superior whirlwind. The tier 4 variant of this ability increases the speed boost provided by the buff to 3x more than normal. You have 4 of 105 Dexterity ability slots remaining.

Opening my eyes, I rocked back on my heels and took a moment to savor the new knowledge filling my mind. Despite the recent success of my traps, the ability I’d chosen to advance was whirlwind, not set trap.

Mostly, this was because a tier four set trap ability would be of little help in my current situation—I was only carrying tier three traps. Upgrading the thieving ability would have to wait. 

My most immediate needs taken care of, I glanced down and took stock of myself.

Your health is at 49%.

My throat, arms, and torso felt as if they’d been rubbed raw everywhere the tentacles had latched onto them, but importantly nothing was broken. I can still fight, I thought stubbornly, and as much as I desired to sip a health potion, I resisted the idea.

“Any sign of movement?” I asked Ghost.

“None,” she replied from where she sat crouched near the stable entrance.

Pursing my lips, I considered my next steps. Ghost’s earlier discoveries bore investigating, my Class point needed spending, and there were still the players’ bodies to loot. However, I wasn’t sure how much time I had. It would not take long for the sentries to report back to the envoy or for him to realize Titus’ group was dead. 

What Malikor would do then was debatable, but I figured the stables were the best place to weather the storm of his fury. As both elite and Sworn, I expected the envoy to have a devastating array of spells at his fingertips, but I was betting the penned hellbats around me would temper his response. He would not risk too much collateral damage to the Riders’ companions—or so I hoped anyway. 

Still, if I was going to survive the envoy’s wrath—even the minimized version—I would need every tool at my disposal. “I’ll be a while longer,” I informed Ghost. “I’m going to spend my Class point.”  

Turning my focus inwards, I called up the class upgrade interface.

You may advance your Class to rank 13 by improving an existing Class benefit or by selecting a new one. Do you wish to proceed?

I signaled my intent to do so, and more Game text filled my mind. This time around, though, I saw no reason to deliberate over the options. 

While there were some interesting new benefits on offer, there was only one sure choice—upgrading void thief. Selecting it for advancement, I waited patiently.

Commencing Class upgrade…

…

Upgrade complete. Class points remaining: 0. 

Congratulations, Michael, your voidstealer Class has advanced to rank 13!

You have upgraded your void thief ability to greater void thief. The fourth tier of this ability makes it easier for you to filch knowledge from your foes by reducing the damage that your void armor needs to sustain to trigger a theft from 30% to 20%. 

The range of hostile spells that can be stolen has also expanded to include non-sustained area of effect spells. Additionally, the memory capacity of your void armor has improved, allowing you to remember your stolen knowledge for 16 hours instead of 12. 

Greater void thief also provides you with a fourth method, called redirect, of disrupting your foes’ attacks. Your mana’s understanding of a stolen spell is such that, within 10 seconds of being hit, you can redirect the spell at a target of your choice. 

Note, like its lower tier counterparts, redirect is a passive ability and dependent on a successful void theft to function. 

“Ah,” I exhaled softly. In some respects, redirect did what the mage’s surprises ring did—except in a much shorter timeframe. It was a spell effect designed for immediate re-use.

Now, instead of simply negating incoming damage from stolen spells, void thief allowed me to bend them to my use, all without wasting any of my own mana—or time—forming the spell weaves. 

Definitely a worthwhile upgrade, I thought in satisfaction.

My player progression done, I refocused on my surroundings, but everything was still quiet both in the stables and outside. Good, that means I can complete my other chores. Spinning on my heel, I made my way to the back of the stables. 

It was time to check on the servants Ghost had found.