Balm in Gilead Chapter 12 (Patreon)

“So how are we doing this?” My voice echoed across the vast theatre.

Good to hear that the acoustics were still working. Wouldn’t want any loud noises to alert the neighbors.

The man behind me reached over my shoulder. He probably thought he could grab me while I was cowed by the show of force arrayed against me.

And it was a lot of force.

It was almost as much force as I used to crush his wrist with my prosthetic hand.

The man howled, I pulled him over my shoulder, even as shouts and curses filled the air. A half a dozen arrows slammed into the first man’s back as I threw him. I yanked the sword from his sheath as he landed, dead, a few feet away.

I was already sprinting.

The woman on the stage moved forward, knife coming up. “Stay where you—"

I flipped the blade in my grasp, hooking my fingers under the hilt, and threw.

It arced through the air like a javelin, catching the Soma woman full in the throat before she even realized what was happening.

B-Rank Dexterity would do that.

I hit the ground and slid.

Arrows filled the space over me. They pierced the seats with ease, cracking the stone floor of the ground.

At least one of the archers in the boxes was at the upper end of level one as well then.

I didn’t stop moving. Two men with shields moved to bar my way to the stage. I jumped, sending another wrecked pew crashing to the ground. The two gaped up at me in surprise when I landed on a shield. It was the same thing Aiz Wallenstein did with my pickaxe less than an hour ago.

But I always was a fast learner.

My foot lashed out, catching the guy on the right in the jaw. He slumped back, unconscious. I clicked my tongue.

I guess I’d need better footing before I was able to snap their necks with a kick.

Or a level up.

I jumped to the stage just as the other man swung his mace at me. He hit only air, and I rolled again, catching an arrow in my shoulder as the rest went wide. Only a graze.

Then I was in front of Lili.

She looked up at me, eyes wide, but I didn’t have time for her to work through her surprise.

Instead, I grabbed the chair she was tied to and sprinted upstage. What few props remained were in no better shape then the seats had been, but they blocked arrows well enough.

I wrapped my replacement hand around the ropes tying Lili in place. With a grunt, I snapped them, pulling her free. “Can you get out on your own?”

Lili jumped, then glanced back towards the theater. I could see her mind going a mile a minute behind those eyes. “Lili thinks so.”

“Go.” I stood. “I’ll distract them.”

I turned, only for Lili to catch my hand. I could see a dozen questions written on her face, but in the end she just reached into her boot and pulled out a dagger. “Lili didn’t have time to use it.”

I took it from her with a wan smile. “If I don’t make it back, tell Hestia I’m sorry.”

She swallowed, but I didn’t wait to hear her response.

Instead, I moved out from the mess of theater equipment back to center stage, dagger tucked tight against my forearm. The Soma Familia had moved in closer while I was freeing my supporter. The men and women from the doors were right in front of the stager now. Many of the boxes were empty of archers, but I could hear the thumping of boots from stage left and stage right.

They were cutting me off from all sides.

I resisted the urge to glance back. If Lili thought she could weasel her way out of this, I’d just have to trust her. The stage itself was backed by a solid brick wall, so there was no convenient exit there. One way or another, she’d have to get past the Soma Familia.

As would I.

I leaned to the side, waving a hand. “Well?”

I took a quick step to the left, letting an arrow race through the air where I’d just stood. That seemed to be the signal, because men and women started jumping onto the stage, weapons ready.

Of course, I wasn’t going to wait for them.

I darted forward, knife flashing out. I slipped through the first woman’s guard like a serpent, burying my weapon in her eye. With a twist and kick, the body went sprawling back on the next row of fighters.

“Bitch!”

I spun, raising my metal arm. The axe hit my wrist with a ringing sound, as something not quite like pain lanced through my consciousness. I rolled my arm over, catching him around the wrist.

This one was smart enough to wear gauntlets though.

I ducked a wild punch, shanking the man three times in the stomach. The dagger was cheap, and I felt the resistance from his skin. High endurance.

But he had low speed.

And I had strength to spare.

By the time he managed to stagger back, he was bleeding from a long gash in his stomach as well. I took his axe from nerveless fingers. The dagger, I threw. It spun through the air, catching a mote of light. The man got his shield up in time to block.

He should have ducked instead, because my axe found his skull a moment later.

Never block your lines of sight.

I kicked another woman back off the stage, as three more burst from the curtains stage right. I turned and raced towards them, ducking low under another barrage of arrows.

These three worked better together. The first one took my blow with his shield, even as it rocked him back. I twisted as a pair of daggers ghosted along my side, drawing a wound. Fuck.

My elbow caught the thief in the face, splintering her teeth. I didn’t have time to finish her off. Instead, I caught another sword swing with the haft of my borrowed axe. I twisted and the blade went flying.

I spun, ducking a blow so near I felt the blade tug at my hair.

The axe flew true, taking out an incautious archer peeking out of stage left.

I grunted as the thief came back, sinking a dagger into my back. My metal hand caught her other blade. My other hand snagged the falling sword out of the air.

And the sword snagged her head.

I ripped the bloodied dagger from my flesh, rolling away from a stage splintering blow.

With a flick, I sent another man staggering back, clutching at his stomach. But there were always more to come. They’d come up all over the stage now, and I’d lost what little advantage I’d held over them.

I couldn’t let them encircle me. So I charged.

I held the sword like a lance, launching myself forward. The blade cracked, but it pierced the man’s armor, leaving him with a surprised expression on his face as he toppled backwards. I jumped, landing feet first in another adventurer’s face.

I felt more than heard bones crack when she hit the stage.

This time, when I moved, I was too slow. Another man got in a lucky hit, taking a gash out of my upper arm. The pain lanced through me as I punched through his face.

But he’d missed the tendons.

My hand ran slick with blood as I swept up another fallen weapon, breaking out of the press of center stage. I practically threw myself into the audience section. This time, the archers had learned, and they waited until I landed to loose their arrows. I batted a handful aside, but one sank home in my thigh.

No time to pull it out.

I ran.

“Stop her!”

Three adventurers leapt from the balconies, bows and blades at the ready.

I didn’t have the space to dodge, so instead I sped up even more.

I crashed into them, grunting as I felt an arrow punch clean through my stomach.

The pain was reaching a crescendo, drowning out everything else as I lay about me with wild blows. There was no time for form, no time for thought.

No time for anything but perfect clarity of action.

I felt a skull splatter under my boot, bodies falling to the ground around me.

Behind there were maybe five more, ten?

I turned, but even with my will unbroken, my body was slower, sluggish from the wounds and loss of blood. The first mace splintered through the haft of my axe, crashing into my shoulder with the splintering of bone.

My left arm fell limp by my side.

My right reached out yet again.

He tried to pull back, but was too slow. A single metal finger pierced into his eye as cleanly as any blade. He screamed as I hooked my finger in the orbital socket, good eye looking at me, begging with his gaze.

I pulled, and he fell to the ground, clutching his ruined face.

I flicked out my hand, the spray of blood taking the next woman by surprise. I stepped forward, she stepped back. It was the last movement she ever made as my foot took her in the crook of her neck.

She fell, head lolling to the side.

I moved back, but the muscle in my wounded thigh spasmed and I fell.

“Get her.”

I tried to roll, but a man fell on top of me, blade piercing through my stomach.

I punched. His head snapped back. Then I grabbed him, kicking him off of me. Another two went sprawling.

I took a deep breath, and I yanked the weapon from my body.

I staggered upright, breath coming in short gaps. My limbs were tingling now, and I couldn’t feel my fingers.

But I wasn’t done yet.

“Fuck, the bitch won’t go down!”

I moved, hurling my blade at the voice. Apparently, he hadn’t seen my earlier trick, because he didn’t dodge in time.

My aim had gotten worse, it caught him in the mouth instead.

I took a step forward, catching a mace strike on my wounded arm. I screamed, but my hand came up, and metal digits slick with blood and gore clamped down on his face.

He screamed.

And then he didn’t.

The headless body slipped from my grip.

Would have to remember to thank… Hephaestus.

I cast my eyes around the theatre, chest heaving.

But there was no one else.

“Oh.” My voice sounded distant, as if I was hearing it from a great distance. I took a step.

Then my leg gave out.

I hit the ground amidst the corpses with a dull thud.

I would have sworn, if I could spare the breath. Instead, I tried to push myself up with a trembling arm.

But I only had two functional limbs. I barely managed to roll over.

Fuck.

This group… hadn’t even been much larger than the last one.

But on prepared ground, surrounding me on all sides, they’d almost managed to even the odds.

I chuckled, blood burbled up onto my tongue. I shouldn’t lie to myself.

They had evened the odds.

Metal fingers ghosted over my belt, but all of my potions had been in Lili’s bag. The one that had been trampled by minotaurs. I let it fall back to the ground.

Funny thing about Weight of Worlds, something I hadn’t considered when I’d first read the description; There comes a point where your body simply won’t move anymore, and there’s nothing you can do to push it any further.

My shoulder was mulched. Even now, I could feel the shards of bone digging into my flesh. My right leg… There was an arrow through it, and I’d taken another long gash there as well… sometime. I didn’t remember that one.

Never mind all the other holes in my body, slowly leaking blood onto the dusty tile.

I gave another laugh, casting my eyes up to look at the ceiling.

There was… a faded mural there. Most of the paint had long since flaked off, but it looked like… an angel in the sky. No doubt that faded fresco was the last face I’d ever see.

Maybe this would teach me to make promises I couldn’t keep.

I closed my eyes, tears leaking from them despite my best efforts.

I’d… really tried this time.

Then I opened my eyes, and Lili was standing there, above me. There was an unreadable expression on her face.

In one hand, she clutched a bottle with elaborate crystal filigree: a full regeneration potion.

Her other hand cradled a slim stiletto.

She looked like she was waiting on me to say something.

Instead, I just chuckled, letting the pain slowly give way to numbness as my eyes slipped shut once again.