CC 9: Tenacity ~ Forty-One

“You dare to assault the son of the son of the grandson of Brontes?” At this close range, the air-shuddering quality of the words coming from the enormous Cyclops’ mouth made the sounds nearly unintelligible. It was only after several long seconds, when the echo came back to Joe, that he was able to understand what was actually being shouted at him.

He had larger issues than the linguistic limitations between his foe and himself at that moment. Namely, the fact that upon looking straight into the eye of the Cyclops, Joe found that he simply couldn’t move or pull himself away from the visage. It was an intense draw comparable to Essence Cycle, in that his mind seemed to be submerged in minutia. Details were irrelevant, yet seemed to hold a depth and mystique that-

The Cyclops blinked again, trying to clear the remnant acid from its eyes, and Joe jerked his head to the side and forced his gaze not to slide back to their original position as the enormous lid closed over the nearly-perfectly circular eyeball. “Well, that's not good.”

Feeling that not being here was absolutely the way to go, Joe turned and sprinted away; making him unable to see the enormous hand that was shooting out at the tower that had so offended the Cyclops. Still, he could feel the howling whirlwind that preceded the enormous appendage. Before the actual gauntlet-clad hand touched the tower, most of the stonework had been stripped away by what was essentially terrain damage. Instincts honed by hundreds of battles screamed at Joe to continue his run, and he Omnivaulted into the air just as the leading edge of the concussive airwave struck him.

Damage taken: 252 terrain (wind) damage! Exquisite Shell: 11,417/11,669

He was expecting to be sent tumbling through the air, but his jump—combined with the wind moving in the correct direction—sent Joe soaring up, higher and further than he’d been expecting. That meant that instead of needing some assistance to reach the next wall over, he instead passed over three of them before needing to push off something to reach the next landing safely. To his surprise, when he kicked his legs, Joe was able to push directly off of the wind howling along behind him. “It has a thin layer of water! Yes! Master rank Jumping to the rescue!”

The condensation had collected mist and compressed it directly to water as the cold-air shockwave pressed in toward the comparatively well-heated Village.

“That's right, you brute! I can jump off of water in all forms! Fear me.” Joe cackled as he got ahead of the swirling wind and took cover. That meant he needed to deal with the concussive wave all over again, but that was much easier when there was a bulwark of stone blocking it. After the worst of it had passed, Joe peeked his head up over the stone top of the wall and watched as the Cyclops grumpy started marching along the path that had been set out.

It was angrily grumbling the entire time it moved, but its nearness combined with the echoing quality of the twisting maze meant that the words that Joe was able to understand were fragmented at best. Every step that it took meant another ritual tower could reach it, and some of the attacks began diverting from the monsters below to the enormous monster in range thanks to the tower picking the most dangerous targets.

Joe, ever the studious craftsman, noted this as a flaw in the design of the rituals, and resolved to specify the targeting sequence much more carefully on the next go round. Right now, he knew that he was reaching his limits. Every muscle in his body was screaming for a break, and his mind was begging for the respite of a bed and sleep. But he forced himself to push through. The fate of this Village, and its defenders, relied at least in part on his continued efforts.

“I just don't understand why it isn't smashing its way through.” Joe winced every time the Cyclops got close to a tower. That meant that the behemoth humanoid would reach up and crush the tower with a swift motion, but not smack it with its weapons, or do anything to expend serious energy on removing the obstacles in its path. “It's clearly intelligent, and it knows that these trashy walls wouldn’t actually stop it. So why…?”

Standing fully upright, Joe stretched his weary muscles and prepared to get closer to the Cyclops once more. As it turned to follow a new corridor, Joe Omnivaulted along behind it, doing his best to stay on its blind side, out of the direct line of sight of its stunning, enrapturing eye. Moving stealthily atop the wall wasn't something he was used to, but it was utterly necessary at the moment. He knew that if he presented himself as a target, there was a good chance the Cyclops would turn and swat him like a fly, possibly demolishing a wall or two at the same time. Joe couldn't afford to take that chance, and so had to play the waiting game.

Each time the Cyclops reached the end of a section and started to turn, Joe repositioned himself, until finally he was directly behind the invader. Then he rapidly closed the distance, Omnivaulting over the seething tide of monsters that swarmed around the feet of the Cyclops. A single mistake would almost guarantee his death, and then Joe would have no possible way to assist until the results of this battle had already been determined.

Something about the way it carefully took wide turns at sharp corners brought up a memory in Joe's mind, but it wasn't until he closed in and the monsters parted for a long moment that he understood what was going on. “It's the club! Every time he takes a corner, he's making a wide turn with his arms acting as a hitch. It’s almost as if he were a semi truck getting off the freeway and onto residential streets.”

The weapon itself was glowing with a dark, malevolent energy, and the Ritualist couldn't help but notice the fact that no matter how annoyed the Cyclops became, or whatever else it was doing, there was at least one part of the weapon that was always touching the ground. An enormous furrow had been dug all the way through the maze, and if he checked, Joe was certain that it would extend all the way out to where the Cyclops had originally been standing.

Watching for a few more moments, Joe realized that the club seemed to sap the momentum of the Cyclops, forcefully slowing it down and causing the monster to strain with every step that it took. However, by the increasing tempo of the magical pulsating, this must have been a calculated sacrifice. If the Ritualist had to guess, there was an immense reservoir of power building up in that weapon, but he had no idea what it would look like once it was unleashed. “What’s this? Is it sapping his momentum, building up a charge the longer he touches it to the ground, or a combination of both? I wonder if this is the real reason that he took five entire waves to reach the wall…?”

Looking at the weapon, the air around it seemed to be boiling due to other-worldly power, and it was nearly as entrancing as the eye of the Cyclops itself. As his eyes roved the creation, he beheld the runes and symbols etched into its surface; the markings whispering that they contained untold ancient power. From what Joe recalled from the Mythos of the Cyclops, the original beings had been descendants of the Titans, and were lauded as exceptional craftsmen on par with Hephaestus himself. They created Zeus's thunderbolt, Poseidon's trident, and the helmet of Hades.

“If this is the son of… no, don't do that whole list.” Joe counted up the generations, coming up with the great-great-great-grandson of Brontes, and realized that it was nearly as long to say that as the title the Cyclops had shouted. “If he has even a fraction of that power, and made this club himself, I shudder to think of what it could accomplish with an attack. What kind of magics are imbued into it…? Yikes.”

With a deep breath, Joe decided on this plan of action. “No matter what else happens, I need to make sure that the club comes off the ground before the Cyclops is ready to use it. Only problem is… how?”

Knowing that he didn't need to figure all of this out by himself, and the simple fact being that there were other, older, potentially wiser people that might’ve seen something like this in the past and have a solution for him, Joe turned and ran. It was only at that point that the Ritualist realized how close they already were to the center of the Village, and that the dug-in Dwarves were fully engaged with the enemy.

As he leaped over the battle, he scrutinized every detail that he could wrap his mind around, and learned one, disturbing fact. The only reason the Dwarves and humans guarding the path forward hadn't been slaughtered already was because the monsters simply didn't care about them. The beasts were throwing themselves into the Legion to be cut down, just to give the next monster in the wave a chance to slip past the defenders. The Dwarves had adjusted to this swarm tactic, but it was clear that a considerable amount of their might was being devoted to this task.

Even with the Defenders still numbering in the tens of thousands, the fact of the matter was that even the smallest of the beasts stood more than twice as high as the tallest Dwarf, and had a Constitution score akin to a pure granite boulder. Coupled with the fact that the beasts were using each other as springboards, the Dwarves were being overrun and taking losses by the second. A few light hops later, Joe was closing in on the commanders of the battle, and was met by a double guard who watched him warily.

“I have news about the Cyclops! I've got to tell the commander and plan a countermeasure!” Joe shouted to be heard over the den of battle, only to be met by two solemn shakes of the head.

“He needs to focus. No interruptions, not right now.” The guards were adamant on this, and bodily shoved Joe back as he tried to push past them anyway. After the first warning, blades were out and the threat was clear. If he wanted to force his way through, he’d be showing himself as a traitor and would be cut down as one.

Casting around for a solution, rubbing his left hand over his bald head, Joe's eyes landed on the Council of Masters that had decided to take the field, coming out of the Town Hall well in advance of the Boss monster’s arrival. Joe sprinted to them shouting and waving his arms to get their attention. “Grandmasters! The Cyclops coming in is building up an attack, that's why it’s moving so slow! When it hits, I'm sure that whatever it touches is going to be obliterated. We need to prepare a countermeasure!”

“We did, Joe.” Grandmaster Snow reached out and patted Joe on the shoulder in a conciliatory manner. “We are-”

Master Stu broke into the conversation, sneer leading the way. “Oh, look, the human thinks he saw something that our experienced scouts specialized in their craft didn't! He thinks that there's an easy solution to a problem of this scale. He doesn't realize that the club in question will hit with the force of a moon impacting a planet when it’s drawn, moving so fast that his eyes won't see it. Point and laugh at the human, who’ll be dead before he even realizes the attack is coming!”

“That is more than enough, Master Stu.” Despite the annoyance in her voice, the reprimand was still soft, compared to the frosty bite the Ritualist knew Snow could imbue her voice with. “Joe, we have assessed the threat and determined that it’s not within your capabilities to handle. We’re calling for an evacuation, effective immediately.”

“You can’t-” The Ritualist cut off his own words, closing his mouth against the tirade that he wanted to let free. “Okay. Okay, I understand. There are things more important than winning right now.”

Embracing their choice, he opened his eyes and gave a firm nod. “I'm here if you need any help getting things set up. If not, I'm going to go and join the fight, hopefully giving some of the Dwarves extra time to make their escape.”

Snow stepped forward, drawing Joe into a slow hug. “Thank you, Joe. Yes, I would greatly appreciate it if you could help us activate the ritual. I can do it, but you can do it faster. You would save the most lives by taking over that task.”

“Then why are we still standing around?” Joe turned slightly and led the way to the square next to the Alchemy Hall, patting the Ebonsteel block of metal he had left as a landmark in passing. After realizing that nothing would be able to easily damage it, he had decided that it looked like a nice monument, and helped break up the monotony of the landscape. “Let's blow these bubbles, and get you out of here. I’ll miss you.”

“You won't be coming?” Stu had a great deal of surprise and suspicion in his voice. “Why?”

“I’ll be setting up my own city after this one falls.” Joe stated heavily, his eyes dim and his words lackluster. “I can no longer ask you to put your people at risk, but I'm not going to give up on creating the first city and taking control of the bifrost.”

They reached the edge of the open area that had been planned as a plaza in the future. The group spread out, quickly getting into position as Joe began laying the groundwork for the ritual's activation. “I wish you great success, and endless safety.”