Dokeshi March ~ 27!

After going back and forth on their respective responsibilities, the two of them settled on a plan. Suki took a running leap over to the nearest building to get into position, and Grant pulled free several more bricks in a notch around the section of the chimney that they wanted to fall. He then wrapped a section of rope around it and tied the other end around his waist.

Grant made sure to double-check his work, then moved to the edge of the roof. The rope wasn’t long enough for it to reach much farther than that, so he would just have to make do. After lining up several bricks along the peak of the roof, he crouched down to wait. He caught a flash of movement a few buildings away and gripped the hilt of February Twenty Nine in excitement.

This was going to be fun.

Suki was only one rooftop away from the soldiers when she threw the first brick. It smashed into the helmet of a cultivator digging through the bag of an old man, and the impact caused the armored thug to stumble over the clothes he had thrown in the dirt.

The second, third, and fourth bricks were thrown in rapid succession, the moonlit flash of Suki’s gauntleted hands instantly giving her position away. The soldiers started pointing and shouting, with only a few seeking cover. It was a testament to their training that the majority sprinted through the city streets to surround her location.

Considering they were focused on the wrong building for the rest of the plan, it was now Grant’s turn to show off his throwing arm. The first brick he tossed went sailing past the guard he was aiming for, and the sound of it shattering against the invisible barrier was accompanied by a flash of azure light from the defenses. The light show caused the remaining guards to duck, and Grant’s second projectile flew true.

The House Saturday Wielder seemed more stunned than injured as the brick hit her and just stopped. The sheer audacity of someone attacking her with a mundane weapon—a brick—was enough to incite a momentary wave of disbelief, followed by a glare of pure murder that Grant swore he could feel from his rooftop over sixty yards away.

<It’s more like seventy yards from where you are to the entrance, and a rather impressive toss. We should consider getting you some throwable weapons.> Sarge’s observation caused Grant to blink in surprise. <You still underestimate your new strength. Suki had to use her gauntlets to help with throwing the bricks that far. It isn’t necessary for you to use your Wielded Weapon to assist you; your cultivation alone is more than enough to manage such a simple attack.>

Grant didn’t have time to answer. The House Saturday assassin was already moving his direction, the vast remainder of the guards following in her wake. He was glad that either the system didn’t record the ineffective ambush as the start of combat, or a Vassal wasn’t clowning around in the area. It must have been the same for Suki, because she didn’t pause when the remaining guards and their leader started toward her. She was already leading them north, away from the rooftop he was hiding on.

The sound of the warped, rotting door exploding from a massive impact below forced him to focus back on the group coming for him. The Wielder from House Saturday must have used some kind of skill to cross the distance so fast, because the majority of the guards following her weren’t even close to the entrance of the alley leading to his building.

<You’re going to have to hold her off until they catch up.> Sarge’s advice was always welcome, if somewhat obvious. <Remember, the whole plan revolves around getting as many of the guards trapped inside as possible. Whatever you do, don’t breathe in that gas. I don’t know what it does, but it certainly can’t be good.>

“Thanks for that. I would have never guessed the obviously poisonous gas wielded by a Saturday would be bad for my-” Grant’s sarcasm was cut off by the destruction of the roof only a few feet away. A golden ball spewing clouds of green vapor erupted from the rotting shingles, the light of the stars granting it an ethereal quality that was almost mesmerizing.

When the ball was jerked back down by the thin chain it was connected to, it brought with it a sizable chunk of the surface that Grant was standing on. He was forced to scramble backwards, his spine bouncing against the chimney sticking out of the roof. It teetered in place but luckily settled back when Grant sprang away. The distraction allowed the Saturday assassin to jump up onto the roof uncontested, causing Grant to miss his best opportunity to attack the dark-robed killer who had been hunting him across the District.

“In all my years of hunting a target, I don’t think I’ve ever met one so foolish as to actually try to ambush me with something as ineffective as a brick.” The assassin’s voice was sweet and melodic, almost hypnotizingly beautiful. She was like a viper, dancing before it strikes. It was hard for Grant to tell, due to the lack of lighting, but the frail woman had likely been very beautiful when she was younger. “I should thank you, though. You made completing this contract much easier.”

She whipped her weapon at his face, the weighted censer acting more like an extension of her arm than a regular ball and chain. As Grant deflected the attack with his sword, his vision was filled with the much-hated system screen.

Combat initiated—Duel

Action: Defend With Weapon.

Result: Attack deflected. Paralysis poison inhaled. Movements slowed by 5%.

Actions: Please select one option from the following list.

Attack: Lethal, Non-lethal, Spell.

Defend: With Weapon, Without Weapon.

Run: Attempt Escape.

Grant selected ‘Attack, Lethal’, then ‘With Weapon’ on the follow-up screen, darting forward in an effort to hit the woman. She swayed backward effortlessly, avoiding his strike and skirting the hole in the roof; her lighter frame allowed her to stand on the edge without the risk of the rotting wood crumbling from under her. Grant didn’t have the same luck.

The roof started to disintegrate as soon as he got close. Scrambling backwards, he had to once again deflect the poisonous weapon as it snapped toward his face. The motion caused more of the wooden roof shingles to slide out from under his precarious footing, forcing him to roll backwards. The rope tied around his waist got tangled in his legs and prevented him from getting smoothly back to his feet.

Action: Attack With Weapon.

Result: Attack dodged by opponent. Defend with weapon selected by default. Defense 90% successful. Paralysis poison inhaled. Movements now slowed by 15%.

Actions: Please select one option from the following list.

Attack: Lethal, Non-lethal, Spell.

Defend: With Weapon, Without Weapon.

Run: Attempt Escape.

This time, Grant could feel the effects of the poison. When he tried to shift his position, it was almost like his limbs were underwater. His movements were still smooth and controlled, but they weren’t anything like his normal speed.

“It’s only a matter of time now.” The Saturday mercenary was clearly more relaxed, now that her poison was doing its insidious work. “If you surrender now, I promise to bring you in with a minor reduction in the amount of pain and agony you would normally expect.”

“Surrender?” Grant scoffed at her. “I’m just getting started! Haven’t had a proper fight since we got to this District.”

He risked letting his eyes sweep quickly over the guards who were finally making their way inside the building. “How about you just step aside? I’d rather not get in conflict with House Saturday, even if I've always dreamed of dropping a house on a witch.”

<It’s been five seconds since she attacked; now’s your chance!> Grant used Sarge’s shout to select ‘Run’ while activating the training mode of his lightning spell. The selection created a cascade of messages that threatened to block his vision.

#ERROR16

‘Run with spell’ is not a valid option.

#ERROR22

Run with spell action is compatible with the system. Option added to system memory functions.

#ERROR27

Hold up. This User is not allowed to add options to the system.

Grant stopped reading, not bothering to consider how his actions violated the Dokeshi’s broken controls. Instead, he kept his focus on the pink-tinted lightning dancing across his body, where it settled around his feet.

“Stop!” The shout of the woman held an aura of command that almost stilled his feet, but it passed in the same instant. He sprinted toward the edge of the roof, the spell boosting him enough that she had no chance to catch his escaping form. The rope trailing behind him went taut, and he jumped for the nearest roof with all the power his legs could muster. It wasn’t enough.

“Gwar-agh!” The shout that escaped Grant’s lips was more of a croak, forced out of his chest when the rope slammed him to a stop. He swung down sharply, his body pretending to be a wrecking ball by slamming against the side of the building. He felt something in his hip quietly *pop* as the rope dug into his waist, a sharp pain suddenly making it even harder to breathe.

The face of the assassin peeked over the edge just as he looked up, her grin visible even in the dim light of the stars. She opened her mouth to taunt him, but the rope shuddered, and Grant started to slowly slide. She fired a wordless shout back toward the guards clambering onto the roof behind her, but it was too late.

<Well, I’ll be a rusty nail! I think it’s about to go!> There was another shudder, and the chimney fell. Unfortunately for Grant, the chimney didn’t collapse. It held together, and the rope started dragging him upward as the heavy stack of bricks plunged through the rotting wood of the abandoned structure. He was towed along right behind it, slamming his already injured hip against the edge of the roofline. <Cut the rope! What are you, a fool farm boy or a Foundation Cultivator?>

By pure reflex of listening to Sarge, Grant’s sword flashed out of its sheath and sliced through the rough hemp strands. His training saved him again, as he forced himself to position his body for a proper landing automatically. The impact with the ground was pure agony, his Bodily Awareness Skill making an already debilitating injury almost unmanageable. The only silver lining was that he didn’t break anything else. Not inside himself, at least.

The shouts and screams of the people inside the building as it collapsed around them like a house of cards brought a momentary flash of guilt, but only for a second. They would have done much worse to him. A few moments after the rumbling of the destruction stopped, Suki’s shadowed form poked out from the edge of the roof across from the alley where he was laying on the ground. “Hurry up and get over here!”

“I can’t!” He tried to shout loud enough for her to hear him, but the pain made it hard for him to take a full breath. “I think I messed up my hip!”

<Concentrate. You need to meditate through the pain, or you will lose your chance to reduce the damage through your skill.> Grant weakly nodded at Sarge’s command, trying to clear his mind enough to activate the ability. It just wasn’t going to happen. The shouts of the second group, led by the Dokeshi’s Vassal, were quickly growing louder. This was about to get much worse.

Congratulations! Your new battle count moves from [3 Wins / 1 Losses] to [4 Wins / 1 Losses]. Remember, the lucky rise to the challenge!

#ERROR92

Win was achieved while selection Run was active.

#ERROR34

Combatants not directly involved in duel were also defeated. Procedure violated.

<If you keep this up, the system is going to alert the closest Vassal. If it hasn’t already, of course.>

“Drink this.” Out of nowhere, Suki was standing over Grant, a potion held up to his lips. He had no idea how she had gotten over to him so fast, and it worried him to think that he perhaps wasn't fully aware of time passing. “You did a good job, but we don’t have time for you to lay around.”

Unable to argue about the definition of lying around, he quickly swallowed the gritty mixture. It must have been one of the lower-tier potions, but it was still powerful enough to shift his hip back into place with a sharp pop, causing his brain to fuzz out for an instant as the pain washed over him.

<You need to move, Grant.> Sarge’s voice brought him back into focus. <If you don’t get away from the rubble soon, you’re going to have to fight the Dokeshi’s Vassal, if the Saturday assassin doesn’t pop out of that rubble shrieking like a pirate on a ghost ship first.>

“Okay, let’s go.” He struggled to regain his feet, fighting against the wave of pain that came with moving. “I don’t think I can run yet, but I can walk. If I can’t, I’ll crawl.”

“It’ll have to be enough.” Suki pulled him to standing without his weight managing to shift her a single inch, then led him through the twisting alleys in a roundabout way toward the gate. “The entrance will open in just a few minutes. We need to get in line before they take a headcount of who’s going inside. Pretend we belong. They won’t be looking right under their noses immediately after all of that.”

Grunting in agreement, all Grant could think was how happy he was that they were finally moving forward toward their goal once again.

One agonizing step at a time.