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Duskbound 2- Chapter 48
🕑 Added 2025-03-06 14:34:32 +0000 UTCThe skill merger was an unexpected surprise. After how many months he’d spent trying to push those two together with no luck, Velik had given up and hoped to revisit the issue once one or both of them were a higher rank. Whether it was the strength of his opponent that had made the difference or just his shift in thought as to how to use [Savage Rhythm] to control Pevril’s hellfire attacks, Velik wasn’t certain. Either way, he wasn’t going to complain about it.
His spear lashed out in every direction, practically at the same time, cutting through the hellfire closing in on him and forcing Pevril onto the backfoot. Wings of fire gathered on the demon, opening wide and flapping once to send a wash of flames over Velik even as they propelled Pevril backwards.
“So you can use a spear. Congratulations. It’s a peasant’s weapon,” Pevril sneered at Velik. Hellfire swirled around the two of them, but with [Aspect of the Wind Tamer] lending Velik even more speed and his spear’s [Mana Drinker] beating back the flames, he stood untouched.
That’s probably as good of an opening as I’m likely to get.
Pevril was squishy. A [Dread Lance] would kill him, which had been Velik’s goal until thirty seconds ago. Now that he had a way through the hellfire, he needed a way to incapacitate Pevril instead. It needed to be fast enough to prevent the man from flying off when the battle turned against him, which Velik suspected he was already on the verge of doing.
A sudden explosion at the house sent chunks of stone and wood flying in every direction. Debris rained down on their battle, a problem for Velik specifically because Pevril was more than happy to send up a thin screen of hellfire to ignite the refuse. Even the stone burned, the hellfire having no issue clinging to it as it chewed through the mana invested in it to keep itself alight.
“Hah!” Pevril barked out. His wings spread, this time angled to propel him into the air. “Have fun with that.”
Swatting aside debris as it crashed down around him was easy, but doing it while preventing Pevril from fleeing was a different story. Already, his demonic form flitted around in the air, twenty feet up as he also worked to dodge or deflect chunks of flaming stone and wood. Unlike Velik, he had no fear of the hellfire clinging to it, which did make things a bit easier.
No choice then. Missed my shot earlier thanks to the interference, and better he’s dead than free.
Velik used his spear like a shield as he dashed after Pevril, keeping it tight in front of him and using it to knock aside anything in his way. He ducked under a shard of spinning glass, visible more so because of the hellfire clinging to it than for any other reason, then tensed and leaped straight up.
Pevril saw him, and his eyes widened in sudden fear. Desperately, he forced his flaming wings into a powerful stroke to lift him higher, but it was too late. The spear dug into his foot—pierced right through it—and [Dread Lance] detonated.
Velik was thrown free, his spear still in his hand, and Pevril spiraled through the air to slam into the side of one of the burning trees nearby. He rebounded off it with a wet smack, black blood splattering everywhere as he crashed into the ground. Both his legs were gone below the knee, and the one attached to the foot he’d hit was missing another few inches up past that.
It wasn’t a clean hit, but under the circumstances, Velik was willing to call it a win. Unfortunately, it was extremely likely that the agent of corruption inside Pevril was still alive. In fact, with no new kill notifications, Velik was certain they both had survived. He climbed to his feet and ran toward the demonic form, now lying still in the grass. All around them, hellfire started to dwindle as it lost its connection to Pevril and his mana.
By the time he reached Pevril, the demonic form had melted away to reveal the familiar human form beneath it. He was unconscious, his breathing shallow and blood pumped from his severed legs. Loath as Velik was to do it, he knew it was better for everyone if he captured the man alive. Pevril wasn’t the man who’d tried to make Velik’s life hell; that was the monster living inside him.
Velik pulled out a system-store healing potion and poured it down the man’s throat. He wasn’t sure if that would be enough to save him, even after he took Pevril’s belt and used it as a tourniquet for one of the legs. The other got strips of cloth cut from Pevril’s shirt—not as effective, but better than nothing.
After all this, if you die on me now with a thousand decarmas worth of healing potion in your system, I swear I’ll drag your corpse around with me until I find a necromancer to bring you back so you can answer my questions, Velik promised Pevril’s unmoving body.
A minute later, Pevril’s eyes flickered, but didn’t open. Velik could hear his heartbeat stabilizing, or rather, hear it taking on the rapid thumping of a man caught by fear. He’d woken up, realized Velik had beaten him, and was likely desperate for a way out.
Or maybe he’d just woken up in extreme pain and the wild heart rate was a natural reaction. That was also a distinct possibility. Either way, Velik didn’t think Pevril had much of a fight left in him. “You know, in a way, you’re lucky,” he said. “My original plan was to kill you. It’s just how things worked out that you survived. Though I suppose I’d understand if you didn’t feel particularly lucky about being captured. Who knows what’ll happen to you now, right?”
“Gods, just kill me and spare me the indignity of listening to you run your mouth,” Pevril muttered.
“I would, but there’s the distinct possibility that there’s an innocent man enslaved to your will in that body. I imagine he probably has some friends or family that would like him rescued from the monster that captured him, and that is what we monster hunters do, right? I feel like you said something like that in one of your culty sermons a month or two ago.”
Since he was stable enough to be moved now, Velik grabbed Pevril by the back of his collar and started dragging the now-legless man away from the trees. Most of them were still standing, but the hellfire had chewed through the ones on the outer edge and made a mess of the place. Velik didn’t trust what was left not to come crashing down on his head, and he was eager to make a quick exit to the relative safety of the open lawn.
The fighting had died down on the opposite side of the estate shortly after part of the manor house had been destroyed, and it appeared that Phun had been captured or killed. Velik wasn’t sure which, but he could hear Torwin and Gwin talking. Jerva’s voice did not join in, which probably boded ill for the chatty hunter.
“You think Phun’s got a wagon or carriage somewhere on the property I can toss you into?” Velik asked. “I’m sure I don’t want to answer all the questions I’d get carrying you through the city in my arms.”
“You… bastard,” Pevril wheezed out, apparently pained by the rough handling of being dragged across the battlefield.
“Not a lot of sympathy on my side of the conflict,” Velik told him. “That whole fighting to survive thing tends to beat it out of you real quick. At least, that’s how it was for me growing up.”
He hauled Pevril around to the front of the estate and was amazed to find it almost completely destroyed. Stone paths had been uprooted and shattered. There were dozens of holes in the building, some small enough to barely fit Velik’s arm, others so large he could walk through them. A few outbuildings and sheds had been completely flattened, and some sort of small fountain that had graced the center of a garden off to one side was now a block of ice.
Torwin stood near that, staring down at the bloodied and battered body of Phun. Gwin was next to him, and Jerva was collapsed into a lawn chair, looking just about as bad as Phun himself did. Still, as far as injuries went, Pevril was the clear winner of the group.
“You caught him,” Torwin said with a weak smile. His face was stained with blood from a long cut right near his hairline and he was cradling one arm in the other with his bow slung over his shoulder.
“Things got a bit hectic when he transformed into a demon and started slinging hellfire,” Velik said, “but yes, I managed to subdue him.”
Jerva cracked an eye open and took in Pevril’s condition. “He still breathing?”
“For the moment. Awake, too.”
“Good. Let’s get them both back and get the monsters out of them before they decide to stir up more trouble for us,” Torwin said. “There’s a carriage house on the far side of the estate. I’ll go bring it around to load up our… our guests.”
The [Ranger] left them there. Gwin stared down at Phun the whole time, a complicated expression on her face, but Jerva just let out a low whistle. “Guess you’re not so bad in a fight after all, new guy,” he said. “I would have paid good money to watch Pevril get thrashed.”
The guild instructor just sat there, held upright by Velik’s iron-grip on his collar, and glowered at them all.
Comments
Gardor
I think it's weird that one of the agents piloted a body with a smashed head, but the leader's agent was apparently "knocked out".
