Chương 91: The Depthscale Tyrant (Part 2)

The first thing I have learned about fighting kaiju-scale monsters is that they do not respect the concept of collateral damage. The second thing I have learned is that lakes can, in fact, become airborne. Which is, objectively, very cool. My tail flicks in appreciation. The rest of the party does not appear to share my enthusiasm. Marek especially. Unfortunate. I had rated his shield a nine out of ten. This turns out to be fortunate. Because he is about to need all ten points.

"So... pray tell. Can Bulwark stand up to that?" Marek stares grimly at the Tyrant. Then, even more grimly, at the far more literal aquatic serpent currently coiling through the air. A truly absurd volume of water has detached itself from the lake. Enough to qualify as a low-grade tsunami. The airborne mass twists and coils around itself in the shape of a colossal serpent, its entire existence radiating undisguised murderous intent.

"I guess we're about to find out..." Marek mutters. I nod solemnly. Everything had been going quite well. Rin and I had arrived at the main battlefield and immediately begun the process of bleeding the Tyrant's mana reserves dry. We scrambled across its body like a pair of extremely motivated ants while the others supported from a distance. Predator's Claim increased my damage. Marek blocked every physical attack the serpent attempted. Bulwark handled the magical barrage. Sylrae shot it repeatedly.

Avelyn kept everyone alive. … Zeke also contributed. Probably. It was a surprisingly effective strategy. Unfortunately, none of us were capable of actually breaking through the mana armor. Even with Avelyn's blessing, the Tyrant's defenses remained stubbornly intact, so we settled for the next best thing. Forcing it to spend mana faster than it could recover it. Then the Tyrant suddenly retreated about a kilometer away, and the lake proceeded to develop homicidal ambitions.

A sizeable portion of it decided that gravity was more of a suggestion than a rule and launched itself into the sky. The bright side is that an attack this large cannot possibly be cheap. The downside is that we now have to survive a skyscraper's worth of weaponized water pressure. Small inconveniences. Sylrae lands beside us, apparently deciding that remaining within Bulwark's protective field is preferable to discovering what happens when a tsunami punches someone in the face.

"Any way we could... cancel that?" she asks. I shake my head. Rin does as well from his position twenty meters away, a placement he chose to not freeze his entire team to death with his current frostflame aura. Even that far away, I can feel a deep chill permeating my entire body. Rude.

"My momentum accessory is nearly full," I say.

"I could unleash a powerful attack right now, but I don't think I could do anything to... that." Rin contributes his own professional assessment.

"I could theoretically freeze it." Hope briefly appears on everyone's faces. Then he continues.

"But that would just turn it from a massive water attack into a massive ice attack." He pauses.

"Which would be worse." The hope immediately dies. Zeke pats Marek on the shoulder.

"Looks like this one is all yours." Marek huffs slightly. Then the Tyrant strikes. The airborne serpent dives. The cavern shakes. And for a brief moment, an entire lake falls from the sky. Avelyn's blessing activates on Marek. Then the attack hits Marek's Bulwark, and detonates. In an instant, the entire airborne serpent flattens against the barrier, the pale-blue dome bowing inward beneath enough pressure to turn the stone outside it into powder before violently rebounding. Then the sound arrives.

A cavern-splitting boom rolls across the lake, followed by the endless roar of water exploding outward in every direction. My ears flatten instantly, popping violently. Sylrae's wings snap tightly against her back. Avelyn's Hallowed Ground dims and distorts, the golden light warping beneath the pressure, but it does not break. Water sprays sideways with such density that the entire battlefield vanishes behind a curtain of rain. Marek grits his teeth. Rock crumbles beneath his feet.

The force begins pushing him backward, his boots carving deep trenches through solid stone as he desperately holds his ground. Barely. The cavern, meanwhile, is having feelings. Stalactites rain from the ceiling. Loose stones bounce and skitter across the ground. The lake surface caves inward where the water was pulled from, only to rebound violently a moment later. Cracks spiderweb through nearby crystal islands. The point of impact grows brighter and brighter. Pale blue becomes brilliant blue.

Brilliant blue becomes white. The barrier strains beneath the pressure, every inch of it screaming under the assault. Marek's arms begin to shake. Then— It's over. The last of the airborne water crashes harmlessly away from the barrier, with the deafening roar of displaced water continuing to echo through the cavern. The area surrounding us has been completely transformed. We are standing on the only dry patch of land left in sight.

Everything beyond Bulwark's protection has been flattened, lowered, or outright pulverized. The lake immediately begins rushing inward to reclaim the newly created depression, turning what had once been the entrance shoreline into just another island within the underground sea. My tail flicks appreciatively. Ten out of ten. That was a legendary tank moment. Marek drops to one knee. Sweat runs down his face, his entire body trembling slightly from the strain. Rin speaks first.

"Resources?" Marek takes a slow breath. Then another.

"Mana took a massive hit. Stamina moderate. Health minimal." Rin nods. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"How long can you keep Bulwark up?"

"At the previous projectile rate?" Marek grimaces.

"A few minutes at best if I don't use anything else. Can't tank that thing again." Reasonable. I approach. Which, considering my speed and the distance involved, is functionally identical to materializing beside him. Two potions appear in my hand. One mana, one stamina. Both Uncommon. Courtesy of Aurelion's continued financial contributions to my success. I hold them out.

"Drink." Marek blinks.

"Potions? Those are—" I side-eye him.

"... Never mind." A wise decision. He accepts the potions and immediately downs both. The Tyrant, meanwhile, simply watches. Waiting. Either impressed enough by the display to allow us a brief moment to regroup, or outright flabbergasted that it just witnessed a literal lake get blocked. Judging by the look in its eyes? Probably both. Fair. Avelyn waves her staff, and golden light washes over Marek, healing the small amount of damage he took. The serpent's eyes narrow at her. Mine widen.

Oh shit— A dozen beams of pressurized water erupt from the shoreline, all of them aimed directly at our healer. My vines react instantly. Four lash out and collide with the attacks. Four beams and four vines cease to exist simultaneously. Marek moves a fraction of a second later, his new skill carrying him to Avelyn's side in a flash of pale blue light. His tower shield slams into the ground just in time to catch the remaining attacks. The dull thunder of water impacting reinforced steel rings through the cavern.

Bulwark rises again a heartbeat later. Rin and I split without needing instructions, accelerating hard enough to crack the stone beneath our feet. New plan. Don't let the overgrown reptile target Avelyn, don't let it drain Marek any further, and ideally, don't let it perform any more large-scale renovations. The Tyrant answers with another roar, before beginning to move towards Avelyn at a rather concerning speed. Dozens— No. Hundreds.

Hundreds of spheres of water rise from the lake below, each one larger than I am and radiating a slight blue glow on their surface. Mana, in all likelihood. The spheres drift lazily through the air around the serpent, bouncing off islands, the cavern ceiling, and each other in seemingly random patterns. Within seconds, the space between us and the Tyrant resembles a particularly malicious game of pinball. As I approach, a vine lashes out experimentally. It strikes one of the spheres. The sphere detonates instantly.

My vine vanishes. A column of compressed water slams into the lake below hard enough to carve out a crater in the surface. The resulting shockwave launches nearby spheres in new directions, accelerating them even further through the deeply inconvenient existence of Newton's Third Law. I immediately revise my previous strategy. Do not touch the water balls. Unfortunately, this is easier said than done.

Running across water through a combination of momentum, surface tension, and increasingly questionable physics does not lend itself particularly well to sudden turns. Or jumping. Or most forms of self-preservation. One mistake would send me plunging into the lake like an overexcited golden retriever possessed by delusions of divinity. I click my tongue. Stupid area denial mechanics. The lake bottom is far beyond the reach of my vines. The ceiling is equally useless from this angle.

For a moment, I assess the battlefield. Most of the smaller islands I used earlier are gone, erased by the Tyrant's attempt to drown the concept of land. Only the largest survived Marek's legendary tank moment. Rin continues his advance without concern. His frostflame lets him freeze spheres outright, and his movement skill plus the ability to create walkable surface underneath him gives him enough mobility to weave through the chaos with irritating competence.

The Tyrant, meanwhile, uses the breathing room to relentlessly bombard Bulwark. Every attack still aims toward the Foxkin healer hidden behind it. Sylrae circles above the battlefield, avoiding occasional water lances while a faint purple glow gathers around her rifle. Charging the big attack again. They are holding, barely. The grimace on Marek's face makes that abundantly clear. Avelyn's Hallowed Ground remains active, blessings appearing across the battlefield with impressive frequency.

Everyone receives one eventually. Everyone except me and Rin. Fair. We are very far away. And very hard to keep track of, thanks to our speed. Zeke is doing his best to reduce the pressure. Massive lances of flame streak through the cavern with every swing of his staff as he pours mana into the fight with complete disregard for personal safety. My tail swishes in appreciation. I expected less from him. The realization is mildly inconvenient. I leap onto a surviving island. Then glance back toward the mage.

Perhaps I should re-evaluate my opinion of Zeke. … Only slightly. An Uncommon class remains tragic. I raise my voice.

"Avelyn! Blessing!" It takes less than half a second. Golden light descends onto me. Excellent. I nod, very scientifically. This is a fantastic idea. The ceiling is my solution. There are fewer water spheres near it, and once I reach it, my vines will be able to carry me wherever I need to go. Unfortunately, there are no conveniently located giant serpents nearby to use as an improvised slingshot. Equally unfortunately, jumping the massive distance to the cavern ceiling remains impossible for my current statline.

Maybe. Mental note: test my current jumping ability eventually. Either way, this leaves a single, extremely obvious solution. I focus on the nearest cluster of water spheres. Trajectories are mapped. Speeds are estimated. Potential collision points are calculated. Everything remains approximate. Even for the most talented prodigy in existence, perfectly predicting what appears to be a highly aggressive game of aerial pinball is somewhat ambitious.

Especially when the battlefield has begun resembling a Touhou boss fight. Even with my Dexterity and Perception obligingly slowing down my time perception. Several heartbeats pass. Then I nod. That one. I jump. My tail flicks. Gravity shifts. For a brief instant, I float directly above a water sphere. Three meters. Close enough. I spread my limbs slightly, maximizing surface area. If this is about to launch me into the atmosphere, it is only prudent to distribute the suffering evenly.

Then— My vines slap the sphere. The sphere explodes. And, majestically, a fox girl takes flight. The resulting blast launches me upward with truly alarming enthusiasm. My bones immediately voice their objections. My joints file formal complaints. I am reasonably certain my nose starts bleeding. Small sacrifices. The cavern blurs. Wind howls past me. Far below, both the party and the Tyrant stare upward. Even at this distance, their expressions somehow communicate the exact same sentiment.

What the hell is that psychopath doing? Rude. Gravity shifts again. My upward momentum bleeds away, the ceiling rushing towards me. Or rather, I am rushing towards it. The distinction is largely academic. At the last possible moment, I flip upside down with a flick of my tail. My boots touch stone. Two vines immediately anchor themselves overhead. My descent stops, my hair and skirt hanging freely toward the lake hundreds of meters below. I take a moment to admire the result. Dramatic? Absolutely. Necessary?

Debatable. Worth it? Without question. Ten out of ten. No notes. I drop. A vine wraps around a hanging stalactite, pulling taut instantly. My trajectory bends. Then another vine. And another. Movement chains together as my vines drag me across the cavern ceiling at mach speeds like a deeply overqualified, rainbow colored spider. There are so few water spheres up here that I simply slap them out of the air whenever one drifts too close. Each detonation sends a curtain of water cascading toward the lake below.

Annoying, but manageable. A few water lances launch toward me as well, the Tyrant correctly deducing that I am, in fact, a problem. Unfortunately for it, they are woefully insufficient. Some are intercepted outright. Others are avoided through the highly sophisticated strategy of briefly planting a foot on a stalactite and triggering Astral Veilstep. Within moments, I am directly above the concerningly mobile kaiju. My feet plant on the ceiling. Gravity increases. My vines release, and I launch downward.

Stone explodes behind me as chunks of shattered ceiling follow in my wake. The Tyrant barely has time to react before I am already there. I had already confirmed that Rin was still a decent distance away. Which means— Life Suppression activates, and the weight of my presence crashes down across the battlefield. The air itself seems to sink. The Tyrant spasms, its breath catching, and its eyes lose focus for the briefest moment.

Far less effective than it had been against the bandits, yet noticeably more effective than it had been against the party. Interesting. Perhaps instinct plays a role. Further testing required. A sapphire glow reverberates through Astra Nocturne. I slash downward as I pass. The trajectory is perfect. Close enough to bite into the mana armor, far enough away to avoid becoming an unpleasant red smear on the serpent's scales. Or getting impaled by the spikes protruding from them. A vine wraps around the Tyrant's neck.

My momentum twists, and the slash continues. Twin Arc activates. Then Starfall Sequence. For the second time this fight, the mana armor fractures. Not much, but enough to bleed off at least a bit of mana. Theoretically. My momentum carries me onward. The vine slings me around the serpent's neck in a full arc before releasing me toward the ceiling once more. The Tyrant finally reacts. Several seconds too late. My tail swishes smugly. Then Rin arrives. The Catkin immediately begins freezing everything in sight.

He uses the Tyrant's own spikes as footholds, leaping across its body while leaving trails of pale-blue frost in his wake. I dive again, and we soon fall into a rhythm. Rin freezes. I strike. We retreat. And repeat. Again, and again. The Tyrant continues advancing toward the party all the while, relentlessly bombarding Bulwark. Every attack still targets Avelyn whenever possible. The healer remains its highest priority. A good decision. An inconvenient one.

The addition of two highly irritating mosquitoes suddenly gaining the ability to damage it has forced the Tyrant to divide its attention. It bombards its own body trying to hit Rin. It launches water lances at me whenever I enter striking distance. Tragically for it, hitting either of us appears to be approximately as difficult as shooting a fly with an airsoft gun. Most attacks miss entirely. The remainder are dodged. Then something changes. I begin another dive. The Tyrant looks up. Our eyes meet.

Something feels wrong. My eyes widen slightly. Nope. I trust my instincts, aborting my attack immediately. A vine wraps around a stalactite and yanks me upward with enough force to make several of my internal organs reconsider their current locations. Bones creak. Muscles scream. Joints protest. I ignore all of them. Rin apparently reaches the same conclusion. His frostflame erupts as he begins spamming movement skills with reckless enthusiasm. Then Astral Reflex finally catches up.

Every water sphere in the vicinity detonates simultaneously. The battlefield goes from bullet hell to natural disaster in less than a second. Rin escapes completely. I do not. The shockwave catches me. Momentum stacks atop momentum, and the blast launches me across the cavern like an exceptionally beautiful projectile. I check my health. Thirty percent gone. Annoying, but not catastrophic. I spread out immediately. Tail billowing, vines unfurling. Every surface possible is presented to the air.

Drag takes hold, and my speed begins dropping. Conveniently, my trajectory points directly toward the party. Another reunion. Excellent. Because I don't think we win the attrition fight. Which means, we need a plan. The realization settles over me with the weight of destiny. The world slows. Not physically. Everyone else simply fails to keep up. My thoughts accelerate. Possibilities branch outward. Thousands. Millions. Billions. Every movement. Every spell. Every likely response from the overgrown water noodle.

Outcomes collapse. Paths converge. Reality narrows. I descend further. Into the deepest recesses of my mind. A place where great strategists are forged. Ancient masters gather. Long-dead generals nod in approval. The stars themselves lean closer. Somewhere in the distance, an engineer bursts into tears. I see it. The answer. The single path to victory. A strategy so refined that future generations may one day build monuments in its honor. … I land lightly near the party. Avelyn heals me instantly.

I am going to do something profoundly irresponsible.