CC 9: Tenacity ~ Forty-Two

There was no need for Joe to add additional stability to the ritual, as it was a high enough rarity that it could weather the chaotic pressure Jotunheim placed upon it. Under the careful observation of Grandmaster Snow and Master Stu, Joe began altering the ritual ever-so-slightly so that it would drop all who entered it among the Dwarves that had left to start over with a new Hamlet.

Joe described the process that he was undertaking to give Master Snow a better idea of what was happening, as well as to hopefully mitigate the sheer suspicion that was pouring off of the Master of Sarcasm. “Changing this vector sigil will allow us to send you south, which should put you into direct contact with the group that left previously. Moving this section will change the speed at which the bubbles travel, but setting it too high will cause issues for you.”

He grunted as he activated the ritual, then paused it immediately, leaving it primed for the next person that would be taking it over. “Remember, they’re not made of water, not exactly. They have water in them, but that acts more as an insulating layer for the outer and inner shell of force. Think of it as a cushion so that if you hit something very suddenly that takes the blow for you while popping the bubble.”

The Ritualist’s words washed over the Dwarves, and the Grandmaster nodded along solemnly, focused on everything he had to say. He knew that for a fact, as he earned a skill increase seemingly out of nowhere.

Teaching has reached Student I! When a student is teaching a Grandmaster something new, that has benefits too!

The increase made him pause in his words, and Master Stu took that as evidence that he was done giving them instruction. The Dwarf got very close, to the point where Joe had to step back or risk draping himself on the stout form that was now in front of him. “Everything is ready there, and we’ll take it from here. I've got plenty of practice with those bubbles that you gave us for little houses. I know that all I need to do is add mana into this spot and the ritual will power itself up. I suppose you can go back to your desperate flailing against a monster too strong for you to defeat.”

While the interruption and condescension was annoying, Joe had to acknowledge the Dwarf: he knew his magic. The human simply shrugged when Master Snow didn't intercede, and began moving away from the area. Seeing as they were still his erstwhile allies, if he thought that the Dwarves would cause an issue with the ritual, he would’ve stayed and forced his help upon them. However, with everything set up, the Master clearly knew how to control the diagram, and Joe wasn't worried for them. He did not care if Stu didn't want him here, there was plenty for Joe to do. For instance, a Cyclops to topple.

Even if that seemed completely unthinkable at the moment.

As he started to return to the active combat zone, Joe found that his heart was pounding his chest. In the distance, he could see the top of the Cyclops's head as it slowly walked through the maze of walls surrounding the city, large enough that it was visible over the tops of the partitions even without the enormous mirrored surfaces that he’d created to give them forewarning. Now that it was closer, the *screech* of the club it was dragging behind it scraping against the frozen earth caused the ground and the air to rumble even between each step that the monstrosity took.

For the first time, Joe realized that the small gaps and mirrors he had left between sections of wall might come back to bite them. Even in the reflective rituals in the air, if the Cyclops glanced up and someone managed to meet its eye, they’d freeze in place momentarily as its power caused them to fall into some kind of paralysis—or hypnosis—which the Ritualist knew wasn’t a pleasant experience. The only thing that was saving them was that the Boss itself was lumbering forward with a measured, determined gait. After merely a moment, they were usually safe enough from that strange effect.

Yet, if they were mid-combat, that moment of hesitation could prove dangerous, and would’ve been considered extremely life-threatening if the monsters themselves were focused on attacking the people in front of them instead of reaching the Town Hall and wreaking havoc. The chilly creatures were continuing to surge around the Boss monster, some of them even failing to have enough situational awareness to avoid getting stepped on and pulverized by the enormous falling feet of their leader.

Even as things became more dangerous, Joe started to recognize habits and patterns of the monsters that were swarming towards them. The Penguins had continued waddling with surprising speed, beaks snapping hungrily as they passed by Dwarves and humans; but now they all were skimming along on their bellies, indicating that the vast majority of them had been destroyed during the onslaught to this point.

Joe paused his other spinning thoughts and focused on that fact for a moment. “If I remember correctly, that means that at least eighty-five percent of the Penguins that took the field have been slain.”

If most of the weaker creatures had been destroyed, that meant they were likely approaching the end of the assorted, collected waves of creatures. Even so, Joe could tell that there were thousands remaining. If they could eliminate the fear of a Penguin bouncing over the lines of battle and managing to arrive at the Town Hall, they should be able to handle the creatures that ran, slithered, or plodded along. At least, they would have… if it wasn't for the general retreat being called at that very moment.

“Abyss!” Joe cursed darkly as the Dwarves, having an escape route—and with their leaders deciding that the odds were overwhelming—slowly began falling back, obviously intent on regrouping at the ritual that would send them careening from this area and leaving everyone else behind to deal with the aftermath. The human paused in consideration as he realized that not everyone was turning and running immediately, instead they were continuing to funnel monsters and bring them down.

He snapped his fingers as he made the realization, “Of course… if they simply leave and allow all of the beasts to roam free, as soon as the Town Hall is destroyed they’ll be hunted by the monsters.”

That helped to shore up one of his major concerns, which was the fact that if he was left with only the human defenders, they wouldn’t be able to stem the tide of flesh that was rolling over them. The Legion was buying him time, even if they didn’t mean to, and he was going to use as much of it as he could. A surge of determination filled him just as the Cyclops arrived at an area too narrow for it to move through and slapped a wall.

Chunks of stone erupted away from the center of the town—which meant monsters didn't surge directly into the Village, but instead were able to bypass a double row of walls as the bitterly cold structures crumbled from the blow. Joe Omnivaulted into action, racing toward the walls that had just been destroyed and leaping to the top of the inner wall after pushing off one of his buildings. Sprinting along the top of the panels of stone, he swiftly approached the openings that monsters were already pushing through.

As more of them came through the open wound in the defenses, more and more of the wall around them continued to crumble, and it was obvious that the entire section would likely soon fall.

From his elevated position, Joe could see the maze stretching out before him, the lackluster walls that created the labyrinthian path rumbling and collapsing. He could see the smug grin of the Cyclops, and knew that the casual attack hadn't interrupted its plan for the destruction of the Village. “Let's see if I can wipe that grin off your face.”

Though his words were laced with venom, he kept them quiet as he didn't actually want to draw the attention of the Boss monster; not when he was close enough that it could flick the air and cause a shockwave that would send him hundreds of feet through the sky. Taking a deep breath, Joe began pelting the area with Dark Lightning Strikes, softening up the creatures, oftentimes making them stiffen in surprise as pain zapped through their body.

Hoping he wasn't making a colossal mistake, he pulled a Ritual Tile out of his codpiece and held it in his left hand as he continued to direct his spells toward the landing space he was scoping out. Joe did a flip in the air to arrest some of his momentum, impacting the ground and rolling forward to disperse any of the damage that wasn't sent out in a shockwave around him thanks to his ‘Superhero Landing’ title.

Joe slapped the ritual to the ground, grunting as he forced enough mana into it to fully activate the barrier ritual. A wall of force sprang into existence in the huge gap, not perfectly closing it off, but also not being well-placed. As the energy tried to spring up, the Ritualist found that it was trying to appear within stone, and his body was rudely yanked to the side along with his Ritual Tile as the structure rejected the power and forced it to materialize off to the side.

Now the hole in the area was better covered, but Joe himself was completely off balance. The vast majority of the creatures on the other side of the wall ignored the tiny opening and continued sprinting around the city following the path that was laid out, but as the snow settled around him and Joe tried to regain his footing, he locked eyes with a Hoardling that was bearing down on him. Saliva was rushing out of its mouth, coating its fur and granting it a secondary maw of icicle-teeth as it opened its jaws wide to clamp down on him: likely planning to bisect him with a single *chomp*.

Joe hadn't been forced into close combat in quite a while, having had the luxury of being able to choose his battles. It showed in his poor reaction time, and he got to experience this creature up close—while it was alive—for the first time.

Its face was adorned with a heavy ridgeline-brow that would likely help with blocking blows coming from above, a trait that its growth had clearly selected for in a land where its predators were much larger than it was. Its barrel-like chest was rising and falling with every excited breath as it thundered toward him on all four limbs, revealing not only its raw power, but excitement for a new flavor of meat.

A denser pattern of frost-laden fur adorned its neck and shoulders, almost resembling a regal mantle coated in diamonds made of ice. As it bellowed in his face, starting to clamp down in preparation of a thick slab of man flesh in its mouth, Joe finally got his wits about him and mentally panic-threw a half-dozen ritual orbs into the open orifice. The jaws slammed closed, but only part way. Metal weapons wedged in its mouth, forcing the jaws to stay open with a grinding *crack*. Shards of sharpened teeth erupted from its muzzle, saliva from the wounds freezing in an instant and turning into shrapnel that pelted Joe's body, even as the blood remained fluid and rushed away to the ritual spinning in the distance.

With a mental tug, Joe took control of the Intelligence orb in its mouth and forced it to start spinning. The weapon brushed against the remaining teeth, releasing superheated bone dust and a sound like a dentist-drill turned excavator. Joe jerked his chin up, a somatic reaction to his mental instruction of the orb, and the weapon blasted up and out of the top of the Hoardling’s skull.

It collapsed, not dead but in extreme pain from all of the frayed nerve endings that had just been exposed. Knowing that he was in a bad position, Joe forced himself not to try and end the fight, instead pushing up and away, landing atop the wall once more as he glared down at the creature that had been fractions of an inch from swallowing him.

“As soon as this battle is over, I'm finding your body and turning you into a fur coat and matching pair of shoes.” The Ritualist promised the creature that was already getting to its feet and rejoining the assault. Rethinking his plan, the human ran along the ramparts and threw himself over the gap, coming down on the next wall over. This time, instead of dropping to ground level, he held the Ritual Tile in his hand and activated it, then carefully dropped it in the center of the hole as he leaped over the damaged section.

The ritual sprang into existence, once more cutting off the flow of creatures, even if it was poorly placed. Joe eyed the barrier, which was several feet out from the actual hole, grimacing at his terrible aim. “That's not going to last long, but it gives us a chance.”

Feeling that he’d done everything he could, Joe turned and watched the lumbering figure of the Cyclops once more. For a moment, the human deflated as he saw that it was on the final stretch, and would be entering the Village within the next few minutes.

His head fell forward, but his eyes landed on the soap-bubble-thin barrier of energy that any of these creatures could destroy with ease, but instead chose to move around. Joe’s eyes widened fractionally as a crazy plan struck him, and he began sprinting along the wall in hopes that he could return to the Village center before the Cyclops arrived.

The Ritualist began chuckling darkly to himself as he gained speed. “There's only two outcomes that could happen next. Either this works perfectly and everything is fine, or it works not so well and I have angry Cyclops and Dwarves coming after me as I wipe out the last, best hopes for Dwarvenkind. Fun times.”