Grand Game 341: By Skill Alone (Patreon)

As Gagan scurried away, Avery ordered half the mages to circle around me. Retreating the way I’d come was definitely no longer an option. My gaze flickered forward. It did mean, though, that there were fewer obstacles between me and the rest of the fifth floor.

I eyed Avery and the seven other mages in the corridor speculatively. They were talking, but no part of their conversation carried to my ears, which made me suspect someone had to have raised a silence ward.

They’re probably deciding how to hold me until Castor arrives, I decided. I didn’t interrupt. For now, being ignored suited me just fine. Letting my gaze drift, I examined my surroundings in search of inspiration.

A short while later, a translucent shape appeared behind Avery’s group. Ghost was back. “Did you find anything?” I asked, eyes latching onto her.

“Plenty,” she replied eagerly. “There are multiple storerooms on this level. Any one of them will make for a good hiding spot.” She paused. “Some may be locked, though.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured her. “What about other mages?”

Ghost’s ears turned down. “There are lots of those, too. But most are gathered in the circular chamber at the center of this floor.”

Was that the casting hall Orlock had referred to? Probably. I checked the status of the spell imprisoning me. Less than two minutes remained. I’d bought enough time, I decided. Now, it was time to change things up and sow confusion.

Tugging at the seams of the blue apprentice’s robe, I began ripping it apart.

Avery noticed. “So,” he declared with a triumphant grin, “you’ve finally decided to abandon your charade and plead for mercy.”

“Not quite,” I said, not bothering to look at him as I rent the garment even further. “But it has served its purpose.”

“And what purpose was that?”

I met his gaze as the blue robe fell apart. “It got me here, didn’t it?”

“Nonsense,” Avery said firmly. “You couldn’t have planned this.”

Saying nothing, I shuffled out of the rags, then stomped on them for good measure and set my hands on the hilt of my blades.

Avery tilted his head. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of resisting?”

“It’s better than the alternative.” I grinned cockily. “And there are only fifteen of you.”

Avery snorted. “You honestly expect to fight your way out of here?”

I smiled. “Oh, I hope to do more than that.”

I didn’t have many assets to deploy in the coming conflict. My speed, stealth, and swords, Avery and his fellows would know to expect. My void armor, less so. But there was one other advantage I had. Something less quantifiable.

I was a player.

And that made me unpredictable.

After all, who knew what Game-gifted skills I hid? It was something I was sure Avery and his fellow possessed were wondering right about now. If I was going to pull of an escape—which admittedly was unlikely—I had to play on that uncertainty. Deepen it and keep them guessing.

“I’m curious,” I drawled, running my gaze nonchalantly across the mages. “How does possessing a headless corpse work? Is that even possible?”

“Your bravado is amusing,” Avery said. “But we are too many and too strong. Or have you forgotten you’ve lost your abilities?”

I shrugged. “Abilities aren’t everything. And you seem to have forgotten I’ve nothing to lose. Die here, and I come back in a shiny new body. You, on the other hand… you will have to make do with whatever disfigured carcasses I leave behind.”

My gaze jumped meaningfully from Avery to the other possessed, many of whom bore scars of one type or the other. “I’ve got that bit right, haven’t I? Any wounds I leave on a corpse will remain when you repossess it.”

Avery’s lips thinned. “Who told you that?” he demanded harshly.

Ignoring his question, I went on. “You will be hampered in other ways, too, of course. It’s drearily hard to capture someone who has no care for his own life—did you know that? You will also have to do your utmost not to inflict any lingering scars on me in the process. I can’t imagine the archlich being very happy with you otherwise.”

For a moment, Avery said nothing, seething with anger. I was playing a dangerous game, I knew. But I was not taunting the possessed just for the fun of it. My words had deadly purpose.

“Who have you been talking to?” Avery hissed.

“The exile, of course.” The words were uttered lightly, but there was nothing casual about the scrutiny I paid the possessed leader. From beneath lidded eyes, I watched him with hawklike intensity.

Avery’s eyes widened. Not in surprise, nor in misunderstanding, but in dawning fear. Elron had been right.

There was an exile.

And judging by Avery’s reaction, the possessed were terrified of her. I guess my course is set now, I thought. I would head east after I left the city—assuming I survived the coming fight.

“She sent you here?” Avery asked, sounding half-strangled.

I nodded mutely, no longer paying much attention. Only seconds remained on the spell holding me, and thanks to my little misdirection, Avery had lost sight of that fact.

“Impossible!” the possessed blurted.

“And why is that?” I asked easily. Inwardly, I tensed.

“Because—”

The luminous white bars surrounding me flickered then died.

A Maizon’s Prison has dissipated.

Already poised to react, I flew into action. My right leg shot out, kicking the robes gathered at my foot upwards, and directly into Avery’s face. In the same motion, I dashed forward, hurtling towards the packed mages. Salvation lay past them, in the corridor beyond.

For a moment, chaos reigned.

Avery, temporarily blinded, had been neutralized, leaving his fellows rudderless. Some, attempting to take charge, shouted orders that were promptly ignored. Others lowered their weapons uncertainly, either for fear of their companions getting caught in the crossfire or because they were worried about damaging their ‘prize.’

A few, though, enraged by my taunts, took their chance, and fired.

I made no attempt to evade the disjointed volley of approaching magic. It would take the mages only seconds to recover and I couldn’t waste that time dodging projectiles. I had to get through. Gritting my teeth, I raced on.

Your void armor has repelled a frost dagger!

The first attack landed, and to my surprise, was rebuffed. It was too early to celebrate though. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied three more spells approaching from behind.

You have failed a magical resistance check! You are vine-trapped. Duration: 4 seconds.

You have failed a magical resistance check! You are frozen. Duration: 3 seconds.

You have failed a magical resistance check! You are burning. Duration: 3 seconds.

You are no longer frozen.

Void armor charge remaining: 90%.

The searing waves of magic struck one after the other. One second, I was wrapped in strangling vines, the next, I was frozen, and the last, I was lit alight.

Unfortunately for the possessed, their spells worked at cross purposes to one another, and before the ice settling around my bones could truly set, it was melted away by the incoming firebolt. But sadly, my arms remained trapped in the vines, leaving stillborn my plan to disembowel as many mages as I could on the way past.

My forward momentum was unimpeded, though.

Letting my feet carry me forward, I barreled into Avery and his fellows before more spells could descend upon me. They scattered, mouthing imprecations.

“Don’t use fire, you idiot! It will scar him!”

“He resisted my spell!”

“I got him! I got him!”

Shoved from multiple directions, and prevented by my trapped hands from catching my balance, I fell on my face. But the vine spell was nearly done, and I kept moving, wriggling across the floor like a worm.

Avery, meanwhile, had wrenched the rags off his face. “Coordinate your attacks, you fools!” he shouted. “Everyone hit him with slowing spells. Now!”

You are no longer vine-trapped.

My hands came free not a second too soon. Stretching out my arms, I threw my body over my head in a forward somersault.

You have evaded a grasping roots spell.

You have evaded a sinking mud spell.

Your void armor has repelled a lightning bolt!

You have failed a magical resistance check! You are weakened. Duration: 8 seconds.

I avoided all but one of the incoming spells, but the one that struck—wilting ray—had a long debuff, and already, I could feel myself slowing down as the energy was sapped from my limbs.

“Duck left!” Ghost shouted suddenly.

Still rolling across the floor, I angled left as ordered.

You have evaded a cone of cold.

A blizzard of ice, sleet, and frost raged passed, missing me by scant inches, and it was only thanks to Ghost’s quick thinking that I avoided its touch. With the danger passed, I attempted to correct my heading, but my weakened body was slow to respond. Damn, I thought, realizing I was about to crash headlong into the left side of the passage.

But there was no wall.

Braced for an impact, it took me a second to realize what had happened. I’d entered the side passage.

“Don’t lose him!” Avery screamed from the main corridor.

The shout galvanized me. Ghost had more than directed me out of the blizzard’s path, she’d placed me out of the mage’s direct line of sight—if only temporarily. Staggering to my feet, I braced my back against the nearest wall and cloaked myself in shadows.

You are hidden.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Safe. I was safe.

“Thanks, Ghost,” I gasped, even as I sidled further away from the intersection. “Tell me what—”

I broke off as the footsteps pounding down the corridor rounded the corner.

Eight hostile entities have failed to detect you!

“He’s gone!” a shocked mage exclaimed.

“No, he is not,” Avery retorted. “He’s here. Hiding. Spread out and find him.”

I bit back my disappointment. The mages had followed too soon. I was barely six feet from the closest and discovery was inevitable. The fact that my stealth was holding at all was surprising.

I have to do something.

I fixed my gaze on the nearest possessed. For now, he was looking the other way. Not drawing my blades—I was in no condition to fight yet—I extracted a stone flask from my bomber’s belt and flicked my wrist forward.

Arcing past the mage, the tiny container landed in the T-junction. The magic inside was inert, but that did not stop the flask from shattering when it hit the floor as it was designed to do.

The sound grabbed the attention of all eight possessed.

Spinning around, they pointed weapons at the unoffending pieces of stone. It bought me a few precious seconds to inch further away.

Fifteen hostile entities have failed to detect you!

Another seven mages appeared in the intersection; the ones assigned to guard the stairs. Ignoring them, Avery pointed at the broken flask. “What is that?”

A possessed picked up the bottle and examined it carefully. “A dead bomb, I think. This was thrown.” He looked down the main corridor. “Did he go that way?”

“No. It’s a feint,” Avery declared. He turned back to face in my direction. “Our quarry is in this passage. Advance.” But despite the seeming confidence of his pronouncements, Avery hesitated to proceed himself. Glancing at one of the newcomers, he said, “Stone, cast revealing eye. Just in case.” He turned to another mage. “And you, Rice, ward the entrance to this passage. I don’t want him fleeing back this way.”

Avery’s thoroughness did not bode well. Still, I was pleased with my own efforts so far. I had escaped certain death, and while I was by no means free, my chances of escape had improved immeasurably. Even better, the distance between me and the mages had opened to a comfortable gap.

I glanced at Ghost. “Lead the way to the closest room.”

The spirit wolf hung her head. “I can’t.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“This passage is a dead end. There are no rooms to hide in.”