Mistrunner 4 - Chapter 21 - A Hint of What's to Come (Patreon)

Sometimes, Mira frightens me. I know she would never hurt me, but she has so much power and so little regard for consequences. She once murdered millions of people without even trying, and that’s not considering what she did to the moon. What if something goes wrong and one of her abilities goes out of control? It’s not outside the realm of possibility that she could destroy the entire world on accident. That keeps me up at night.

Patrick Ward

The BMAP thumped as I discharged one explosive cannister after another. They were new ammunition, and I wanted to test them out in a less than desperate situation before I used them when it really mattered. The shells flew threw the air, arcing high above the battlefield before descending toward a cluster of irradiated Wildlings. Just before the first hit, it exploded into a cloud of Mist-laced gas. A second later, the next one did the same. And the next after that. By the time the final of cannister erupted, a hundred square yards of the crater had been bathed in the blue-sparking gas.

That’s when the Wildlings’ excited screeches began to take on a different tenor. Instead of an expression of eagerness, it became the aural equivalent of pure terror and abject misery. Flaring Observation, I watched as the blue gas clung to the Wildlings, melting their flesh and eating through their bones. From afar, their bodies looked like melting wax, and in only seconds, all but the hardiest of Wildlings in that area had fallen.

“Damn,” Patrick said over the Secure Connection.

Indeed. The shells themselves hadn’t been terribly expensive, and the base gas was cheap enough as well. The real trick was the Mist infusion, which was one of the ways I’d found to practice Mist Authority. I knew it wasn’t terribly efficient, and the Mist only lasted for a few days before it began to dissipate. However, if I used them before that, the result was obviously deadly.

I knew it wouldn’t have been possible for most people to do the same. Tinkering, Basic Explosives Handling, and Mist Authority were all necessary to make it work, and even if someone was capable of replicating the cannisters’ construction, they would never have gotten so much out of them. I had my modifiers to thank for that.

In short, the ammunition was personalized to take advantage of my abilities, skills, and modifiers, and it used that specialization to great effect.

The cloud of Mist only lasted a half minute, but during that time, the Wildlings were forced to go around. Hopefully, the ability to temporarily block an enemy’s intended path would one day come in handy.

I had a dozen more cannisters in my arsenal implant, but I chose not to use them. Instead, I swapped the BMAP out for my Stinger, then laid into the Wildlings who tried to skirt the Mist-infused cloud of deadly gas. Due to their relative lack of intelligence, they never even thought to swing wide. Instead, the Wildlings all took the same track, racing in my direction as soon as they cleared the cloud. That served to line them up perfectly, and I mowed them down with little difficulty.

“So far, so good,” said Patrick over the Secure Connection we shared between us.

I sighed. “Really, Patrick?” I muttered with a shake of my head.

“What?”

“You just had to say it, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t say stuff like that. You’ll jinx the whole thing!”

“That’s…that’s stupid,” he scoffed.

I replied. “It’s real. Just watch. Everything’s going to go wrong any second,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I actually believed that; usually, I wasn’t superstitious. However, there was no reason to so blatantly tempt fate.

Sure enough, only a few seconds later, a few giant figures burst forth from the ground. In some ways, they looked similar to the other Wildlings, with limbs that were far too long and massively bulging bellies. However, these were at least twice the height of the already-tall Wildlings, and I could see that their Mist auras were significantly denser. That suggested much greater levels of power.

“See?”

“You already saw those coming,” Patrick argued. “What I said had nothing to do with it.”

I shifted my aim to the closest. It was still a couple hundred yards away, but the Stinger was more than capable of reaching that far. And with Observation as well as my modifiers, that distance barely even affected my aim. I fired, one three-round burst after another, hitting the creature in its bulbous stomach. The rounds thudded home with a trio of small explosions that tore into the layer of fat, but they did little real damage.

I couldn’t help but smile. Finally, we’d caught the attention of some truly durable monsters. Of course, my perception was a little skewed; it wasn’t that long ago when I’d nearly been killed by the more normal irradiated Wildlings. Back then, if I’d come up against one of these new, larger creatures, I would have died.

Fortunately, I was much stronger now.

So, I flipped the Stinger to full auto, reestablished my aim, then squeezed the trigger. In anyone else’s hands, that steady stream of explosive rounds would have sent the weapon to bucking, but in mine, with my enhanced Constitution, it was trivial to hold it steady. As a result, the rounds flew true, hitting in a tight grouping in the center of the monster’s bulbous stomach. The first few did little more damage than the first three shots, but each impact tore a bit of protective fat and muscle away until, twenty shots in, the creature’s innards were entirely exposed.

I kept firing, tearing a hole through the monster, but even as its guts spilled free, it thundered ever forward. I continued firing until, at last, the collective damage sent it stumbling to the ground. That was when Patrick took aim with his modified Dragon and fired at a rate of two-thousand-rounds-per-minute on a collision course with the creature’s skull. Ten seconds in, its skull exploded, coating the area in wriggling brains and bone.

By that point, I’d already moved on to the next monster. However, this time, I took a page out of Patrick’s book, and I aimed for the head. Normally, I chose to target center mass, largely because, even with my abilities and modifiers, hitting a moving target wasn’t easy. So, to mitigate the chance of missing, I typically took aim at the most prominent part of the body. Usually, that was the toros, and with the giant Wildlings, the protruding stomach took that label as its own.

In any case, when I took aim, I set my sights on the comparatively smaller target of the Wildling’s head. Predictably, I missed with every fourth or fifth shot – especially when it realized what was going on and started jerking back and forth in an effort to avoid my fire – but with the power I could bring to bear, it didn’t matter much. Soon enough, it dropped, its head exploded as well.

“Aim for the legs,” I ordered Patrick. “Slow them down, and I’ll finish them off.”

“Do you want to use the big gun?” he asked, adjusting his aim.

“Not yet.”

Over the next few minutes, we systematically tore the Wildlings to pieces. Patrick disabled them with his rebuilt Dragon, while I aimed for their heads. Once they were on the ground, my job got a lot easier, so we made good progress. Still, a couple made it through.

Patrick retreated while I darted forward, exchanging my Stinger for the ADS. I fired from close enough that the Norcite pellets didn’t have much of a chance to spread. As a result, every single one of them hit the creature’s bulbous stomach. Even as it lunged for me, I leaped into the air, kicked off its shoulder and somersaulted past it. Even as I flew toward the next in line, I took careful aim and unleashed another spread of Norcite pellets.

As they tore into the monster’s shoulder, I hit the ground, rolled, then came to my feet at a dead sprint. It swung its fist in an overhand blow that narrowly missed me. Instead, its hand crashed into the ground with the force of a sledgehammer, and the shockwave threw me off kilter. I flared Balance, then found my equilibrium a second later – just in time to pepper a third monster with the ADS’ issue.

Already, I could feel the Mist swirling as it flowed from the Wildlings and to me. That was the power of my new scattergun. It wasn’t meant to do damage; rather, it was there to tear the Mist from my enemies and feed it to me.

The first one stumbled. Then, the second. Finally, the third fell flat on its face. That’s when I pounced, yanking the Interdiction Blade from the sheath on my back. After dismissing the ADS, I took a two-handed grip and descended on my first victim. It wasn’t quite prone, but its head was in easy range.

Or rather, its neck was.

I lashed out with a horizontal strike, pouring Mist into the blade. It flared with blue light a second before it met Wildling flesh. Meat parted easily, and the bones of its vertebrae followed soon after. One swipe, and its head toppled free. However, that one attack had taken a massive amount of Mist – maybe half of my stores. Fortunately, I could already feel the effects of the Norcite pellets replenishing my reserves.

So, I wasted no time before repeating my attack on the other two creatures. They tried to put up a fight, but against the Interdiction Blade, they stood no chance. Only a few seconds later, another pair of heads rolled free, joining the first as I defeated my enemies.

“That was quicker than expected,” said Patrick, who was still tearing into the larger crowd of Wildlings.

“I’m going to try something,” I said, watching the largest cloud of Mist ascending from below. If it kept the same trajectory, it would surface about three-hundred yards away. Hopefully, I would have time to finish the others off before then. “Make sure they don’t get to me before I finish.”

Patrick acknowledged that, then raced forward. Vaguely, I was aware of his stomping footsteps as he thundered in my direction. However, I didn’t even devote one of my minds to noticing him. Instead, I used one mind to embrace Mist Authority while I used the other to latch onto the auras in my perception.

Then, I started ripping them apart.

Pain lanced through one of my minds, but I kept it quarantined there so that it couldn’t affect my actions. And those actions were incredibly effective. Before, I’d struggled to pick the dervishes apart. Now, though, I felt positive that those amalgams of Mist and crystal wouldn’t even slow me down. And by comparison, the wildlings were even more vulnerable. The results were predictable.

I didn’t need guns or bombs.

Not when I could tear the motivating energy from their bodies with my mind. Hundreds fell in the space of seconds. Then, those hundreds became more than a thousand. But still, I kept going. I knew I was pushing my limits, as evidenced by the blood pouring from my eyes, ears, and nose, but the heady excitement that came with so much power was intoxicating. I held the power of life and death in my hands, and I wasn’t eager to relinquish that authority.

And I didn’t.

Not until one of the giant blobs of Mist surged upward, breaking through to the surface in a shower of earth that sent the smaller Wildlings tumbling away. I stupidly tried to pick its Mist part, and for the first time, I was rebuffed. The backlash sent me reeling, and if I’d only possessed one mind, I probably would have passed out. However, [Multi-Mind] quickly reaffirmed its worth; one of those minds went dark, but the other remained entirely cognizant.

Pain slammed into me, sending me stumbling backwards. But pain, I could deal with. I’d long since learned to cope with enough torment to send most people tumbling into insanity. So, I maintained my grip on consciousness and kept my wits about me as I beheld the newcomer.

It was at least twenty feet tall and almost as broad. The other Wildlings were thin to the point of emaciation – outside of their bulbous bellies, at least – but this new arrival was, to put it lightly, obese. Huge rolls of fat cascaded down its swollen body, ending in overlarge hands and feet. Its head was nestled somewhere between its shoulders, though even with Observation, it was difficult to see where its face began and its fatty shoulders began.

More important than its appearance, though, were the waves of Mist roiling all around it. I’d never seen anything so powerful, and I questioned whether I would survive long enough to change that.

“Pick! Run!”

“Mira, it’s not –”

“Run, dammit!”

Even as I shouted, I sheathed my blade and yanked the Emperor from my arsenal implant. I barely took the time to aim before letting loose with the first shot. Even with my massively enhanced Constitution, the weapon kicked hard enough to nearly dislocate my shoulder. The round hit the monster directly in the chest, digging a massive crater at the point of impact. Then, it exploded, sending a shower of flesh and blood billowing out from there.

However, when the air cleared, I saw that the creature hadn’t even broken stride. There was a hole in its chest, exposing its ribcage, but it still wasn’t fazed. So, I squeezed the trigger again. This time, the kick sent me stumbling backward, though I caught myself before I fell. The resulting impact was even more massive than the last – twice as powerful, if Gala was to be believed – and yet, even though it resulted in another crater only a few scant inches from the first, the enormous Wildling remained upright.

So, I regained my balance, took aim – making sure to brace myself properly – and then fired again. This time, the kick tore my shoulder out of socket, ruining my aim. The round still found its way into the monster’s bulbous body, but, because it was only a glancing blow, its impact was minimal. Somewhere behind the creature, an explosion of fallen Wildlings, dirt, and rock erupted into the air with the secondary impact.

Cursing, I switched arms, then slammed my palm against my dislocated shoulder, knocking it back into place. I felt certain that every ligament had been torn by the violent injury, but I couldn’t afford to let it derail me. Not with the monster progressing ever closer by the second. Its long strides covered a dozen feet at a time, so I knew I only had a few more seconds to take it out.

And three more shots, though I wasn’t certain if my body could take it, much less my Mist reserves. So, I reluctantly stowed the Emperor, once again retrieving the ADS from my arsenal implant. Then, I raced forward, firing the bulky weapon one-handed the moment I came within range. Most of the pellets missed, but a few managed to lodge themselves in the creature’s obese body.

I fired again. And again.

Then, finally, I came within its reach, which, as it turned out, was a mistake.

It swung its arm in a backhand that moved so quickly that there was no chance I could dodge it. So, without any other option, I solidified the Mist around me, which served to blunt the immediate impact. The Sheath protected me, too, but even then, the blow hit with nearly bone-shattering force.

Thankfully, my Constitution proved up to the task of keeping me from splattering, but it could do nothing with the momentum of the attack, which sent me skipping across the battlefield for nearly a hundred yards. Each time I hit the ground, I felt bones crack, but fortunately, when I skidded to a stop, I was more or less whole.

That’s when I noticed the distinctive sound of the Dragon’s fire.

“No! Patrick, don’t –”

But he couldn’t hear me. I watched, aghast as he unloaded his entire store of ammunition into the massive creature. The balls of superheated plasma did little damage to the monster, but it did serve to get the thing’s attention. It lumbered toward him, its gait deceptively quick due to its long strides. Knowing that I needed to either put it down or get its attention, I once again pulled the Emperor from my arsenal implant and took aim.

Fortunately, the ADS’ Norcite pellets had done their job, draining it of Mist and sending it into my reserves, so I had plenty of Mist available to fuel the fifth shot. Still, when I squeezed that trigger, it felt like the life had been sucked out of me.

More distressingly, I felt my collarbone shatter under the recoil.

I screamed.

The round tore across the battlefield to tear a new crater in the back of the monster’s ribcage. No – not a crater. The entire side of its torso had been destroyed, exposing broken ribs, organs, and corpulent flesh in large amounts. But it didn’t stop moving.

So, the moment I had enough Mist – most of which had drained from the giant Wildling – I fired a sixth time. This time, the already-shattered bones in my collarbone were ground to dust, and my arm was very nearly ripped away from my body. However, the effect more than made up for the pain I felt.

The round took the creature directly in the back, sending it tipping over onto its face. I yelled at Patrick to run, and I saw the gleam of his white armor retreating into the forest.  And yet, I knew that the enormous Wildling wasn’t dead. Nor would it die if I left it as it was.

So, without giving it any more thought, I took aim with the Emperor, propping myself on nearby rock. Then, I fired the seventh and final shot.

I went flying backwards, which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been outside the blast radius when that last round landed in an explosion that rivaled one of my most powerful demolition charges. But there was more to it than that. The Mist whirled, ripping anything in the immediate area apart.

That included the giant Wildling.

And the area within a hundred yards of it.

Fortunately, I was just outside the blast zone, though only barely.

I lay there, basking in the agony lancing through my body as well as the influx of experience that told me I had killed the thing. However, when I tired to move, I realized that none of my joints worked quite how they were supposed to. I flopped around – painfully – for a few seconds before I gave up.

Taking a deep, agonizing breath, I embraced [Mist-Infused Body], flooding my body with Mist and guiding it to my copious injuries. Bones snapped back into place, joints came back together, and my skin – which had been broken in numerous places – mended. In seconds, I was back to being fully healthy.

But I wasn’t happy about it.

I hadn’t intended to use the regeneration associated with {Mist-Infused Body}. The fact that I’d been forced to do so meant that I chalked the whole excursion up as a failure. Angrily climbing to my feet, I looked around. There were plenty of Wildlings on which to vent my frustrations, but that wouldn’t do any good. So, I took another deep breath, then retreated.

“You tag most of them, Pick?” I asked, sprinting away.

“I think so,” he said. “At least the ones I could reach.”

“Alright. Then meet me back at the ship.”

“So soon? I thought you’d be out her for hours yet,” he remarked.

“There’s nothing else I need to do here,” I answered. Then, I thought better. “Or maybe only one more thing, but I can do that from the ship.”

“Alright. See you there.”

The trip back to the Leviathan was uneventful, and before I knew it, we were back in the air. Patrick guided the ship over the battleground, where the Wildlings were still milling about.

“You ready for some fireworks?” I asked, forcing a grin I didn’t feel.

“Light ‘em up.”

I retrieved the detonator from my arsenal implant, then pressed the button. Instantly, a hundred charges went off, bathing the entire area in destruction. Thousands of Wildlings died instantly, with many times that following in the conflagration that followed. The most powerful – the ones on the level of the corpulent Wildling I’d fought last – survived, but that wasn’t unexpected.

I was tempted to go back down and finish them off, but I thought better of it. There wasn’t much to be gained by doing that. The monsters were contained to the crater, so they weren’t a danger to anyone. And now that I’d put my arsenal to the test against powerful opponents, I had enough data to inform the second phase of my training.

“Let’s go home,” I said, tearing my eyes away from the carnage. “We still have a long way to go.”