The naga fell on me like a ton of bricks, its weight crushing.
A level 241 naga has critically injured you!
Your health is now at 42%.
Trapped by the naga above and the solid cushion of air beneath, my bones broke. My body compressed. My eyes popped. The air from my lungs was squeezed out. And the pressure… the pressure ratcheted upward with every passing fraction of a second the naga’s body settled more deeply atop me.
In a heartbeat, my head would explode.
Quick mend triggered! Your health has been restored to 55%.
A level 241 naga has critically injured you!
Warning! Your health is dangerously low at 17%.
Quick mend bought me another split second, long enough to realize there was nowhere to go, nowhere to dodge, and nowhere to hide. So, I did the only thing that came to me in the moment.
I dissolved the windslide.
Windborne has been dispelled.
My body fell. And the naga’s body fell with me.
The gap I’d left between the bottom of the ramp and the ground was not large, three yards maybe. But those three yards were a lifeline, and transformed what would otherwise have been an insta-kill into a viable window of escape.
Drawing psi, I shadow blinked.
? ? ?
You have teleported into a level 240 stygian naga’s shadow.
I emerged out of the aether, flat on my back, ribs broken, mind befuddled, and in indescribable pain, but importantly, alive.
I was in no fit state to fight. And worse yet, I was visible. The nagas would be back—and soon. Dropping my swords uncaringly, I fumbled at my belt, searching by feel alone for the items I wanted.
Spying a slip of motion on the periphery of my vision, I ignored it. More motion appeared on the other side. I ignore it too.
The nagas were back already.
Knowing I was out of time, I yanked free the first bottle that came to hand and flung it as far away as possible.
You have ignited a firebomb!
Wrong one, I thought woozily as a bonfire mushroomed up less than ten yards away. The sudden surge of flames did have the happy effect of surprising the nagas though, and they both instinctively flinched back.
I’d earned myself a temporary respite. Using it, I randomly drew four more bottles and threw them away too.
You have ignited a firebomb.
You have ignited an ice bomb, creating a frozen surface.
You have ignited an ice bomb, creating a frozen surface.
You have ignited a smoke bomb, creating a smoke cloud.
Better, I wheezed at the appearance of the thick plumes of smoke, and as soon as the first tendril touched me, I cloaked myself.
Two hostile entities have failed to detect you! You are hidden.
Even battered and half-senseless as I was, I didn’t fail to mark the angry hisses of the nagas as I vanished from their sights once more. But I knew the smoke cloud wouldn’t fool them for long. It was not nearly large enough for that.
I needed another plan.
“Prime, use spellhold!”
“But—”
“Do it!” she commanded. “We’re on our way. Look out for me, I’m almost in range.”
To my surprise, I realized she was right. Ghost and Anriq’s mindglows were only one hundred and twenty yards away and closing rapidly. When did that happen? I wondered.
Had they killed their naga already?
But whether they had or not mattered less than the fact that the pair were almost in position to be of help. Doing as the pyre wolf bade, I reached into the ring on my right hand and drew forth the spell stored within.
Mage’s surprise activated. Spellhold casting released.
You have trigger-cast furious storm.
The response was instantaneous. The sky darkened and angry bolts of white shot down.
A lightning bolt has hit a level 241 stygian naga. Your target’s shield has blocked the attack.
A lightning bolt has hit a level 240 stygian naga. Your target’s shield has been destroyed!
A lightning bolt has hit you. Air damage repelled!
The triple strikes were only the beginning, and already the next wave was incoming, but I didn’t hang around to watch. Weaving psi, I fell into the aether again.
? ? ?Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
You have teleported 99 yards. You are no longer hidden.
Shadow blink dumped me unceremoniously back into the ‘real’ at my familiar’s feet. I didn’t stay there for long, though. Swooping down, Anriq scooped me up.
“Got him,” the werewolf reported over the farspeaker bracelet. Slinging me over his shoulder—he was in half-form—Anriq reversed course, heading for Adriel’s shield, I suspected.
“No,” I whispered.
“What?” he demanded.
“Don’t head back,” I replied, weaving more psi. “I only need a minute to recover. Just keep me out of trouble that long.”
“You want to return to the fight?” he growled. “That’s—”
“—necessary,” I interjected.
“Michael’s right,” Safyre chipped in before Anriq could say anything. “Do as he says.” Her attention swapped to me. “Can you heal yourself?”
“Working on it as we speak,” I replied from between gritted teeth. Bouncing along on the werewolf’s shoulder was not helping my injuries but I didn’t ask Anriq to stop. A moving target was harder to hit than a stationary one.
“Have it your way,” the werewolf said. Changing course abruptly, he cut a wide arc around the elites, presumably to stay out of their immediate range.
“What’s going on with the nagas?” I asked, fielding the question to Ghost.
“Both their shields are down now,” she reported in satisfaction. “They’re trying to dodge the bolts.” She barked a laugh. “But they’re not having much success.”
I managed a weak smile. At least my efforts had not been in vain. “What about the other two nagas?” I asked over the farspeaker link. “The ones near the purifying barrier.”
“They’re both still alive,” Safyre reported. “But Adriel and I are keeping them occupied. The serpents and hydras are done for, though.”
“Excellent,” I murmured. The final weave of the spell I was spinning fell into place, and I released it posthaste.
You have restored yourself with quick mend. Your health is at 47%. You are no longer bleeding or dazed.
I exhaled in relief as the greater part of the agony riddling my limbs fled. I was far from whole, but no longer was I crippled. “You can put me down now,” I told Anriq.
Skidding to a halt, he set me down gently.
I clasped his hand. “Thanks for the rescue. I don’t know if I would’ve managed to escape on my own. You two saved me.” I inhaled deeply, drawing more psi. “But your part here is done. Return to your fight.”
The werewolf eyed my empty hands in concern. “How are you going to manage without swords?”
I smiled bleakly. “Don’t need them now.” Spinning around, I turned to face my foes.
“Alright people, I’m back in the fight. Let’s finish this.”
? ? ?
Furious storm had run its course.
And while the two elites hadn’t exactly been left reeling, they had certainly been hurt.
A level 240 stygian naga is lightly injured.
A level 241 stygian naga is barely injured.
In the storm’s aftermath, the nagas had coiled tightly together, forming a single mound of hardened glistening scales. It was a daunting defensive posture and one that presented a foe with no easy angle of attack—at least physically.
Magically, I suspected, the pair were even now replenishing their spent defenses, and no doubt their shields would be back up soon.
But I wasn’t going to allow that.
Gathering psi, I pulled my arms back. Interestingly enough, despite losing their shields, both nagas’ consciousnesses remained opaque to me, evidence enough that their minds were protected.
Attempting to shatter the stygians’ mental defenses was one option. But there was no reason to bother with that. Notwithstanding its near fatal outcome, my original plan was still workable.
You have cast astral shurikens.
Two three-pointed stars appeared in my empty hands, each a deep shade of translucent purple and thrumming with energy. Whipping my arms forward, I sent them racing towards their targets.
The flattened discs whizzed through the mists, arcing to the nagas a hundred yards away. Neither creature saw the psi projectiles coming and a heartbeat later, they struck.
Your astral shuriken has hit a level 241 stygian naga.
Your astral shuriken has hit a level 240 stygian naga.
My aim proved true—not that it required any great effort on my part to hit the motionless creatures—and both shurikens slipped soundlessly through the nagas’ outer shells to attack the nerves beneath.
Your astral shurikens have inflicted psi damage!
Nerves at the point of contact have been weakened. Inflict further psi damage to deaden them entirely.
The nagas shuddered. They’d felt the touch of the ethereal blades, but their only response was to coil more tightly together.
It availed them little.
Because, of course, the shurikens were not done yet. Reemerging from the nagas’ bodies, the psi projectiles bounced to the adjacent target.
Your astral shurikens have inflicted psi damage!
Your astral shurikens have inflicted psi damage!
…
Five consecutive times, the blades bounced—five consecutive times during which they eked away a little of the elites’ health. It mattered not that the damage was miniscule.
My next pair of shurikens were already airborne.
Taking off running, I circled around the nagas. I was not about to close in on the pair and risk another physical confrontation. Such was no longer necessary. But sooner or later, I expected the two elites to switch from defense to offense, and when that happened, I had to be ready.
? ? ?
It was only after bearing the brunt of three full volleys that the nagas chose to react. Uncoiling with vicious speed, they lobbed two voidballs my way.
But if the pair had thought to catch me off guard, they’d miscalculated.
The voidballs were slow—in comparison to my shurikens, anyway—and I observed their approach with a distinct lack of concern as I kept up my own assault.
Your astral shurikens have inflicted psi damage!
Your astral shurikens have inflicted psi damage!
…
Three seconds later, the voidballs closed to within striking range. Breaking off my assault, I set down a windslide and darted away.
You have cast windborne.
You have evaded a voidball.
You have evaded a voidball.
Ignoring the nagas’ angry hisses at their attacks’ failure, I dropped down from the air ramp and resumed my steady jog.
A level 238 stygian naga has died.
I smiled. I didn’t need to look behind me to know that Adriel and Safyre had just killed one of the elites. Only three to—
You are no longer nether-cloyed.
My grin broadened. Now, the outcome of my own fight was assured. Weaving stamina, I prepared to vanish once more.