Knives & Levels - Chapter 85

Colt froze as he watched the half-figures of floating ghosts swarm the guards at the gate. The long-tendril-like fabric came off their bodies as if they were wearing half robes, though they lacked a bottom half and simply floated.

As Colt sat, absorbing what was happening, he witnessed one grab a guard. Its ghost-like limbs managed to hold him and clench him by his clothes. Though it appeared to be a ghost, it had no trouble pinning him down and then screeching in his face.

Like something out of a horror movie, it drained the soldier, pulling a vital essence from him. In a second, the man’s knees went weak, and he began to wobble, nearly collapsing on the ground as it looked as if it took his very essence out with thin, wispy strands of the essence; Colt felt a shiver in his soul as he recognized this was some forth of a direct Soul attack.

The way it resonated with the air and played with his senses confirmed it.

Colt’s grip tightened on his weapon, now aware of how the enemy chose to attack. The next part was to find their vulnerability—thankfully, one of the guards managed to blast it with magic, sending a bolt of fire directly into the back of the wisp. It recoiled from the act, afraid of the fire, fleeing as it came undone with the magic. Another guard let out a slash and cut into the side of the ghost. Instead of simply phasing through, he wounded it, but the attack had a little less weight and merit than Colt initially thought it would.

He tried to fire off an inspect… But for whatever reason, the skill couldn’t latch on and failed to provide him with any information. Dangerous, but with the course of the fighting, it seemed as if things would be fine.

Was it possible that this was an odd skill of these monsters?

The guards would be able to fend off this attack on their own; with about fifteen phantoms, they could surely overcome the odds and deal enough damage to truly do what needed to be done.

Magic is effective against them, Colt thought, as he witnessed another one try to suck the soul out of a guard and ran forward.

But, since they seem to be targeting souls...

Colt let the thought go as his body responded to action; his Edict wrapped thick around his blade, absent of Movement or the new Momentum, wanting to keep his freshly scoured soul as well kept as he could. Recovery was key after stretching oneself too far, and given that the guards weren’t being utterly devastated…

The second his Edict wrapped around his knife, the combat came to an abrupt halt. The phantoms broke off from attacking the guards, their heads turning as one to him.

Why?

Ah. His soul. It was the biggest one on the battlefield, given how much he invested into the stat, more so than anyone else he knew, even Nate and Sarah, who’d he slowly been convincing to branch into the stat… And in calling his Edict out, he’d essentially just broadcast that his soul to these devouring monsters was a big juicy steak for them to come and take a bit out of.

As one, the ghosts sprang forward, flowing to him in an ethereal tidal wave of death; he felt the coldness of the air, the thick ice and water Edicts at play, along with a chilling sensation that cut into his bones and further, reaching into the core of who he was.

Had he not sacrificed his fear in the name of power, he didn’t doubt for an instant that this effect would’ve had some kind of emotional paralysis to it.

As it was, all the ghosts switched direction and targeted him at once…

It made for a nice line.

Colt drew his golden edge back, letting the blade condense as he gladly took all the attention. He willed these ghosts to look nowhere else, flaring his soul as much as he dared, even with the strain it’d gone through recently.

They swiftened in response, like sharks tasting a bit of flood congealing in the water.

The gold on Colt’s blade flared, and then, with a wince as he ripped it free, he cut into their wave, sheering through their ghostly body with a large singular slice, like a crescent moon chopping through the mist itself. There was a scream as the Edict cleaved even them, who were neither completely physical nor intangible—and then, in a whisper, their bodies burst apart into thousands of small particles of water and crystal, rejoining the mist around them as they vanished.

Colt stepped back.

Something was wrong.

He felt the hair rise on the back of his neck, an instinctual warning that danger was approaching, screaming at him to move and adjust. But he didn’t see it, couldn’t parse what had happened. All of the phantoms had vanished.

Only… If they were slain, where was the notification?

Colt raced forward, breaking his conservative use of Edicts and calling forth Movement, jerking his body to a race in a split second. There was a screech behind him; his body lost balance, and he kept tumbling. Colt pulled at something else, grasping the Momentum of his movement to keep him moving and keep him out of danger even as he lost control of his very legs. It was different than his other Edicts, with a sense of levity and tangible power that made it rough to work with.

But, he had enough of a grasp to toss his body just a bit further, even with the failing legs.

A phantom’s hand descended four times his size, palm downward as it smashed into the spot he’d been.

If he’d been a second late, that attack would have hit him directly and could’ve been the end to all that he held dear.

Colt stared at the phantom palm, looking at a plethora of screeching faces bulging out of the mist, watching as it rose again. This time, he didn’t hesitate, knowing his target; Cut condensed on his blade, and he lashed it forward, sheering through the fingers of the phantom and tearing them into oblivion. Yet he didn’t stop, jerking out another Cut from a different angle, hitting it repeatedly as fast as he could conjure the attacks.

Several golden lines sliced through the misty hand in seconds, dicing and mincing it. Then, as those minced bits tried to congeal back together, fighting against the finality of division his Edict imposed on the world, Colt cut the hand again. And again.

Sweat ran down his brow, and his breath grew ragged as he tore through it with abandon, knowing that whatever this monster was, it was more substantial than it initially appeared.

At long last, it stopped reforming, a last gasp and screech from the remainder of the faces as they faded away to oblivion. The mist instantly retreated, less thick than before.

With the confirmation of a notification, Colt was certain he’d finished the job.

———

You have defeated Twisted Frozen Phantom Scholars - Level 70

Olympic Physique (Intermediate) has gained a level!

———

Colt slipped to one knee, feeling his soul scoured by the efforts. His heart a dull beat that he felt reverberated in his chest, moving everything inside like a thick sludge. That had been the single strongest stray monster he’d run across, and it had marched straight up to their wall and launched an attack.

And those phantoms… Had that been another form? A trap of some kind to lure someone like him into the fray, to be a better target to take on? The system had also lumped them all together… The best he could figure is that the form of a hand was their true actual body, and in slaying it, he had managed to do all the damage needed to win.

“Are you okay?” One of the guards rushed over—offering him a hand to get him up to his feet.

Colt took it gladly, his body shuddering as the cold mist wrapped around them, denser. That monster was tied to the mist, and given that it hadn’t let up completely, that meant there was bound to be more of these roaming outside right now…

Which meant they had to make an emergency announcement.

“I am. We need to return to the city now,” Colt said, taking a step forward and feeling weak. All of this happening now was simply bad luck, and if he couldn’t manage to get himself back together in time, then the people he’d vowed to save couldn’t rely on him.

Damn this body. Colt thought and took another step, fighting his weak muscles. The guard helped him out, making most of their way back to the wall before he took over and handled things for himself. With an annoyingly slow pace for someone used to moving quickly, Colt rushed as best he could through the barrier of New Nashville and back into the city proper.

He gasped as he moved; it didn’t feel like he was getting enough air, but the message was of the essence. He didn’t have time for weakness.

As he entered the city, found Julia there, the woman was already rushing outward to help with the fight. Too late. But he appreciated that she would’ve been there on the frontlines to help if she failed.

“Colt!” She let out, rushing to his side. “What happened?”

“Level Seventy Monster was attacking. I think there must be more out there. This isn’t a person. You were right. The mist is somehow linked to these monsters.”

Julia let out a sigh as she helped guide him through the streets, earning quite a few stares their way. It hurt Colt’s pride, having them see him this way. He’d vowed to protect them and had done his best. Yet them seeing him stumble and weak… It wasn’t the kind of image he needed to give to provide them with a sense of safety.

Not that he knew they were safe…

“It’s got to be a dungeon then. A high-level dungeon we don’t know about, and it’s leaking—which means we have to fight it and end it before it gets worse.”

“I don’t think people can be out in the city right now. Not if a monster like that can show up.” Colt said. Among the city, there were probably ten people in total who’d have had a chance with a monster like that—about half of them were his own team… Even within the group of the city’s strongest, the likelihood of how such a fight would shake out was far too risky for anything he wished to see.

Colt hastened his pace as much as he dared, feeling his body drain with the effort.

He had to get to Nate…

He had to…

His mind fuzzed, his vision blurred, blackening on the edges as his next step caused him to slip. He heard Julia say something to his side, but the words slipped by, lost. He felt his soul then, felt the exhaustion in his body.

The wounds hadn’t fully healed, and he’d essentially just ripped them open again in a desperate bid for power.

Colt realized his mistake then. He’d pushed himself too far. He felt himself go too far, and as his consciousness began to slip and the world became a blur… Yeah, too much strain."

Numbly, he felt Julia grab him and yell something as she dragged him through the streets, he saw their faces shock at his failure… And then time slipped by.