Chương 58: Euphoria

The highly offended vine-monster that Dimitri was currently wrestling with apparently decided it was completely done playing nice. Its bulbous violet face flower pulsed with a sudden, angry light, and before my rugged Russian savior could even lean into his shield padding, the creature completely bypassed the front line. [Activating Ability: Shadow-Root Dash.] The clinical, monotone voice of the female System chimed in right on cue to announce my impending doom.

The Creeper dissolved into a frantic, high-speed blur of motion, weaving through the thick air in a dizzying zig-zag pattern that completely left Dimitri swinging at empty smog. In a fraction of a second, the creature materialized right in front of my face, its long, spindly limbs ending in razor-sharp wooden talons aimed squarely at my throat. It was attempting a total dash-kill maneuvers, and I was the lucky prize at the finish line.

With a panicked reflex born of pure, unadulterated cowardice, I sent my heavy iron hand mortar vanishing back into the digital ether. In the exact same heartbeat, the rugged, iron-banded frame of my Deck Sweeper blunderbuss materialized straight into my Trigger-Finger Wraps. I didn't bother aiming down a sight line or waiting for a clean shot. I simply shoved the wide, ridiculous barrel of the short-ranged firearm directly into the pulsing floral face of the oncoming nightmare.

I squeezed the trigger, unleashing a standard, point-blank blast of pure ballistic energy. The weapon roared with a terrifying amount of kickback, the heavy stock absorbing just enough of the impact to keep my arms from flying out of their sockets. At that distance, the unpredictable spread didn't matter one bit.

The massive impact connected with absolute, devastating precision, and the poor creature's head didn't just break; it completely exploded into a glorious shower of shattered bark, scorched moss, and boiling violet sludge. I stood frozen in place, blinking through the sudden cloud of black smoke as the completely headless, twitching body of the Creeper dropped straight down onto the stained soil, landing with a wet, heavy thud at the toes of my boots.

A sudden, bubbling sound escaped my throat, and before I could even stop myself, I burst into a loud, frantic laugh. I had absolutely no logical reason to be giggling like a maniac in the middle of a literal ghost town graveyard, but the sheer, adrenaline-fueled absurdity of the moment completely broke my internal filters.

"Oh, wow, okay," I shouted, my voice echoing off the rotting trees as a massive grin plastered itself across my face.

"I don't know what is wrong with my brain right now, but this is actually incredibly fun!" I tore my eyes away from the beautifully decapitated garden ornament at my feet and shifted my gaze over to June. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Our resident high-society duchess was staring back at me with an expression that was an absolute, gold-standard puzzle.

Her mouth was slightly open, and I honestly couldn't decipher if she was looking at me with absolute, starstruck amazement at my unparalleled gunslinger genius, or if she was deeply concerned that I had just permanently lost my final two remaining marbles to the trauma of the dungeon.

"Hey, no time for admiring the merchandise, June," I called out, giving my blunderbuss a little flourish to shake off some of the clinging purple goo.

"It is officially time for you to do your magical thing! Let us unleash your inner arsonist and burn this entire miserable zip code right to the ground!" My incredibly loud and aggressive motivational speech seemed to do the trick, successfully dragging her royal senses right back into the active combat zone. Her regal posture snapped straight, the Faded Linen Tunic rustling as she gripped her Scuffed Juniper scepter with a tight, knuckles-white intensity.

Her Polished Pebble began to hover a bit more aggressively around her head, pulsing with a faint, anxious hum as she prepared to weave her elemental energies.

"Arthur, you utter peasant, you must realize that true, magnificent artistry cannot simply be rushed like a common tavern brawl," June huffed, her thick, aristocratic British accent cutting through the toxic smog with a heavy layer of condescending grandeur.

"My glorious, world-shattering incantations require a proper, undisturbed vocal performance to manifest. You and the rest of the help must ensure that absolutely nothing interrupts my majestic recital. Cover me at all costs!" A blinding, aggressive crimson light suddenly erupted from June's fragile frame, casting long, dancing shadows across the slimy purple village square.

It was a spectacular, blazing fiery aura that practically screamed to the entire forest that our resident duchess was currently cooking up something highly combustible. Naturally, this sudden display of magical pyrotechnics completely shattered any illusion of stealth we had left, instantly grabbing the undivided attention of the five remaining vine-monsters lurking in the gloom.

Four of those twitchy, highly offended Creepers immediately locked their bulbous face flowers onto June, preparing to launch a coordinated assault to shut down her royal recital before she could get to the high notes.

"The shield of a true companion shall never cast a shadow of doubt upon the hearts of those who dream!" Dimitri screamed, his thick Russian accent booming across the graveyard like a thunderstorm wrapped in pure, unadulterated kindness.

"Iron Vow!" [Activating Skill: Iron Vow.] The monotone, clinical voice of the female System chimed in directly through my field of vision. Instantly, Dimitri's entire burly frame turned a deep, pulsating shade of aggressive crimson, sending out a massive wave of pure, irresistible taunt energy that forced the four charging monsters to abruptly abandon their royal target.

They veered off course with a series of furious, clicking screeches, throwing themselves entirely against his heavy, canvas-padded shoulders and rotting barrel lid. Unfortunately for our collective survival rates, the range of his protective shout was only wide enough to ensnare those specific four, leaving one final, deeply uncooperative Creeper completely unaccounted for. That single, sneaky little piece of aggressive shrubbery had been lurking deep in the blind spots of the toxic smog.

Bypassing our glorious Russian wall entirely, it rushed forward with a liquid, supernatural speed, tearing across an angle of the village square that was completely unguarded. It was heading straight for June's unprotected flank, its razor-sharp wooden talons bared and ready to turn her into a highly aristocratic pincushion. I glanced over at our magnificent element-weaver as she desperately tried to maintain her regal, high-society composure mid-chant.

Despite the arrogant tilt of her chin and the smooth, splinter-free grip on her juniper branch, I could see the absolute, paralyzing terror flooding into her eyes as the monster closed the distance. No matter how desperately she tried to mask it beneath her royal dignity, she knew she was exactly one second away from a very messy, very un-royal disaster.