FMH: Everything ~ Twenty-Six

The Murderhobo wasn't going to be patient anymore. He wasn't going to give his opponent another chance to spring surprises on him, to get ready. At this point, if he wasn't able to participate in a fight worth having, Luke would simply put him down and go find someone that was more fun.

One of the dogs blew out a light blue mist that settled over Luke, held at bay in part by his armor. Even so, it slipped through whenever he would take a breath, driving into his lungs and trying to do…something. Luke was eminently unconcerned over that; he had been looking for something that could be the final boost his Skill needed to get to Tier four. Poison wasn't working anymore, oversaturation of mana only made him stronger, and the feeling of stagnation was stifling. For an instant, he even deactivated the armor on his head and took a deep breath, just to make sure he got the worst the man could offer.

It was a brutal collage of slaughter as he began swinging Cookie with utmost accuracy and force. The two-handed Dragonbone Greatmace ensured that there was no surviving animal beneath its length when he lifted her up to move into another attack pattern. Flames rolled toward him, burning the air as it collapsed onto him, superheating the environment around Luke and causing a small amount of damage to leak through his armor.

He ignored it for the moment, instead intently hunting the wolf that was causing the black flames to spring up around him. Releasing Cookie, he clapped his hands around the dog's head, his thumbs pulling up and forcing its jaws shut. That cut off the flame, and he continued squeezing until he heard the thick skull *crunch* under his fingers. His overgrown fingernails plunged into the summoned creature's brain. “Slimy, yet satisfying.”

The gore vanished as the dog did, and Luke moved on to the next obstacle. He heard the other man shouting things at him but mostly ignored what was said. “Did you just crush an abyssal hound's skull with your hands? Most people have the meat melt off of their bones as soon as they're within a few feet of it!”

It was bizarre to Luke that his opponent was praising him for his battle prowess. He decided at that moment that he should probably hunt down this man's entire lineage to ensure that anyone remotely similar to him wasn't allowed to exist in the future.

Judging by the variety and Tier of the dog that he was having to put down, the Murderhobo assumed that this man was someone important. Punching a ghostly hound in the snout hard enough to make it look like a pug before it disappeared, Luke looked over and assessed the quality of the clothes his opponent was wearing.

At first glance, the simple material could be mistaken as some kind of after-shower robe. Looking deeper, it was clear that the simplicity of the material was hiding a perfectly cut outfit that was designed to look understated. It was as though this were someone who was trying to blend in among lesser people but didn't understand that most people didn't have clothes made out of fabric that a family of four couldn’t purchase with their entire cumulative lives’ savings. Luke's tongue flicked out, running over his top lip slowly as he considered what it would feel like to wear that robe as a mana manifestation. “It's gotta be comfy.”

“What, my robe?” The strange man smiled winningly, “I'm so glad you like it! It’s hair from the last Dragonkin, harvested over the course of half a century, spun into the softest, most fire-and-magic-resistant yukata this world has ever seen. You have an eye for quality, and I can appreciate you appreciating me.”

“Dragonkin?” Luke looked at Cookie as she performed amateur chiropractic services to a wolf that was snapping at them. She needed a lot more practice, as instead of helping that creature to be better aligned, she caused several of the vertebrae to rip out through its stomach on that last hit. Narrowing his eyes, he looked back at the man offering him false hope. “Aren't dragons covered in scales?”

“Well… yes, mostly.” The man smiled almost shyly, a hint of color turning his cheeks pink. “There is a reason this outfit is naturally curly and perhaps a little too wiry for a non-Ascender to wear. I assure you, it has been properly cleaned.”

“Bum Thunder,” Luke almost casually stated, crossing the final bit of distance between himself and this odd human from another empire.

Cookie was already coming in from the man's left, Luke grunting in exertion as he leaned back and pulled, increasing her momentum to the maximum he could achieve in the short time that he had. Various magical effects started appearing around his opponent, everything from barriers to planes of force that attempted to push back against Cookie. Nothing could stall her advance, and Luke's eyes started twinkling, his eyelids pulled back so hard it was like he was falling off a cliff with the wind blowing against him.

He was going to have that… yuka… yuk… yucky outfit. Cookie got all the way to the man's cheek, going so far as to begin distorting the skin. Lightning struck the man, and it took a moment for Luke to register that some final lifesaving Spell or artifact had pulled him away.

Where it pulled him away to, Luke had no idea. All he knew for certain was that the man had teleported or been teleported by something else. It had literally been done at lightning speed, meaning none of Luke's Skills were fast enough to take the man down before it happened.

“No! My Pajamas!” The Murderhobo screeched as he looked around for his opponent. The Ascender was nowhere to be seen, and his surviving dogs seemed to be weakened greatly. They were panting, as if they had been running for hours, whimpering as though their Master had completely abandoned them. Luke was certain that was only partially true, and they would be summoned to that stranger's side once more, after he destroyed them. He got to it, and only one of them escaped, running in a straight line deeper into the dynasty.

His gaze trailed after that dog, somehow knowing that the escaped soon-to-be-murder victim was at the end of the path that dog was running along. He started to follow, only to find himself blocked by other Ascenders, these ones in much more functional armor and gear. It interested him, but today he was all about the yucky robes, for some reason. He started running toward the new combatants that had presented themselves to him, only to grow in frustration as Zed's voice whispered into his ear.

“Hello there, Lukey!” The sing-song, teasing voice of the Bard only caused the Murderhobo to grow more agitated, to put a tiny bit more force behind each strike. “Taylor says that we need to get off the battlefield right away. Something bad is happening, and we need to make sure to take advantage of the distraction. I can practically guarantee a whole bunch of people are about to get turned into dust, and you're in the line of fire.”

“I can take it!” Luke twisted out of the way of a lunging three-headed dog, turning the momentum into a backhand on its Trainer. The attack ripped the man's lower mandible off of his head entirely, leaving a bleeding mess with a tongue hanging out in the open as the trainer tried to gargle new commands at his dogs.

“Pretty sure you can’t!” Zed cheerfully deflected. “Turns out, this fight has gotten way too big. Now a whole bunch of higher-level Ascenders are getting involved. Taylor estimates about three minutes before Archmage Don shows up and starts blastin’.”

Luke didn't pause, though he was startled by the information. “You mean to tell me that the Archmage is going to be here, out in the open, distracted… sometime in the next couple of minutes?”

“That's exactly what I mean.” Zed's voice was dark, as he knew exactly what Luke was thinking and was happy to encourage it. “As soon as I have his coordinates, I will let you know immediately.”

Luke hopped into the air, swinging Cookie up as though he were going to bring her down in an overhead chop. His opponents flinched and tried to dodge out of the way, but the Murderhobo had never intended to follow through on the strike. While in midair, he activated Bum Thunder, appearing ten meters behind his starting location. He turned and threw Cookie back toward his home country's territory, then manifested the Scourge in his right hand, grabbing the end of it with his other hand.

He was surrounded on all sides by enemies, so he didn't have to be cautious with his next moves. Even so, he had been testing out a new movement technique and decided it was the perfect time to put it into use. Swinging the scourge up into the air, it created a perfect parabolic arc over his head.

Then he brought it down, hard, as he hopped over it. The rope impacted the ground, the force of it throwing him higher up. As he reached the peak of his momentum, he brought the weapon up behind him then down again, remaining in the air the entire time without needing to have his feet touch the ground.

The scourge whirled through the air as fast as his wildly enhanced muscles could make it happen, making it appear as though he were levitating as he moved along. Whatever got in the way of the mana-manifested scourge was dealt blunt damage then partially shredded as the blades popped out of its braids. In under a minute, Luke had used his self-created movement technique ‘Jump Rope of Doom’ to return to his countrymen, and he dismissed the scourge as he sailed over the border wall.

Seeing as his travel had destroyed all of the enemies that would otherwise be pressing against this point, the soldiers had a few free moments to watch him in absolute awe, some of them breaking out into claps, cheering, or whistles. “Hero of the battle! Luke, Luke, Luke!”

Other soldiers started taking up the chant, only for a familiar-looking simulacrum of Zed to slightly shift the chant to a more recognizable form. “Hero of the battle! Murderhobo, Murderhobo, Murderhobo!”

Luke huffed in annoyance as his legal last name was chanted up and down the lines. “What are you all so excited about? I only killed a few thousand people. It’s just a regular day for me.”

That got a round of laughter started, and the whistles increased in volume. Most of the clapping had completely stopped, their hands needed for weapons or shields. Truly not understanding their excitement, Luke found his group, his eyes peeled for any sign of the Archmages' arrival. He locked eyes with Zed, who shook his head slightly to indicate that the Archmage hadn't yet poked his head into the area.

Then Luke heard the words that he knew would be coming soon, but nearly caused his anger to completely boil over. Taylor had her hands in the air and was pushing mana out in a familiar pattern. “Get ready, everyone. As soon as we have a guaranteed distraction, we need to make a break for it and start our stealth operation. We won't have long before the Imperial hounds are called to sniff us out, if they realize that we're within the boundaries of their empire, so speed is of the essence.”

“Can we wait two and a half more minutes?” Luke's words earned him a suspicious glance from Andre as well as from Taylor.

The Druid was still mostly focused on holding back his opposing Ascenders but retained the presence of mind to vocalize his inquiry. “That's a fairly specific amount of time, Luke. Any particular reason you would like to give me?”

“No.”

Taylor tried next, though it seemed she wasn't particularly concerned with the outcome of whatever answer she would get from him. “You're not going to try and take the Archmage by surprise, are you? It's not going to work.”

“Maybe I am; maybe I'm not,” Luke tried to deflect, like he had heard Zed do in the past.

“Sorry to break it to you, big guy.” The Mage smirked at him as she finished her portal. “The requirement for him to join the fight is that you're not in this world.”

Luke clenched his teeth so hard that they would have broken if they were merely dentin covered by enamel. Luckily for his future meals, they had been empowered by mana, just like every single other portion of his body. Nothing about him was easy to break or lose, except his temper. Then he blinked, and his eyes went wide in excitement. “Did he make that condition?”

“Yes?” Taylor replied quizzically as she urged the other members of her team to step through the portal. To her surprise, the Murderhobo went first, a wide, dark grin on his face.

“You're saying he's afraid.” Luke let out a dark chuckle as he paused with one foot through the portal, casting his eyes out over the world he was leaving behind for a short while. “I guess that will have to do. For now.”