78. No More Nonsense
I finish eating and healing myself, then turn to Durghan.
“Can you sense any other enemies about that strong?”
He’s sweating slightly. I guess I didn't cast a strong enough healing spell after sprinting over here. “There are two,” he said, closing his eyes to feel them out. “One is considerably weaker than the other, but probably still too strong to be a Fomor. They're both that way,” he pointed his axe to the South.
“We’ll target the stronger one,” I order. “Everyone who wants to come, let’s go.”
Out of curiosity, I use
The others have probably already realized, but I don't intend to give them the numbers myself.
Anyway, the next enemy is quite far. We’ve been sprinting for almost twenty minutes now, and
That number isn't enough to deal with a Small Baphomet, I think to myself. And then I see a photonegative light flash in the distance. Living War Orcs: 0. We’re too late to save them, but maybe we can get there before
But before we get that close, I have to cover all my bases.
Name: Bjorn
Age: 4 years, 38 days
Gender: Cisgender Male
Race: Small Baphomet; Monster
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Skills (Embedded): 6/6 skill slots.
Skills (Learned):
Blessings:
Fast Healing (Small Baphomet)
Curses:
Torment Curse (x2)
Status:
Body: Enhanced (Magic Armor)
Heart: Hate Filled (War Orcs)
Mind: Corrupted (Torment Curse)
Soul: Corrupted (Corrupted Mind)
Will: 102%
No
No matter what, I have to remain in a state where I can attack this time. There’s no guarantee the others can finish this guy off before he kills me.
Once
[[
Once the enemy is close enough to see, I disable
[[
I know I can't order him. I activated
There’s an unpleasant crunching sound as the Small Baphomet’s left shoulder bones turn to dust. I hear a small cracking sound come from my Demonic bone mace as well. It seems these two have a similar structure. Well, I can still attack a few more times without breaking it.
Without realizing it, I've started to smile cruelly. I'm a bit harder to fight when all my limbs are intact, aren't I?
The Small Baphomets all have a similar fighting style. I've gotten used to the uncanny way they move, and it's no longer distracting to me.
When the enemy’s arm dropped, momma swung her axe at its wrist, which had lost strength. He lost his grip on his sword, and it went flying into the woods. He still has one more, of course, but this is good.
Right after, Fiara called out a warning. “I'm using an AoE spell! Everybody but the chief, get back.”
Ah, I accidentally taught her that word, but I don't regret it. This world doesn't have an equivalent of its own that I'm aware of. They're just considered powerful spells.
Still, it’s either
I don't have
I gamble on
I gambled correctly. A large amount of Magic Power gushes out of Fiara’s body to fill the Spell Pattern she built. As it does so, it takes on the water attribute, and its temperature drops violently. For a moment, the world around me starts to turn deep blue. Dark blue frost spread across the ground, killing all the plant life it touched. I turned up the heat in my insulated space, but I could still feel
Isn't this spell actually really dangerous? I would hate to encounter an enemy who could use it.
More like, in this world, people seem to have super powerful attacks and weak defense. The Small Baphomets’
Anyway, Fiara put as much as she could into that spell. It looks like Magic isn't considered a weapon by
Fiara is out of breath, but she still calls out to warn me. “Chief! It's that!”
Yeah, I figured. But, see, I don't like having my body repeatedly destroyed. I ignore rebuilding my defense while the enemy is forming his Spell Pattern, and swing my wings up against either side of the Monster’s head. Both wings are simultaneously imbued with
The Monster’s head cracks like a raw egg between my wings. His Spell Pattern instantly collapses, along with the rest of his body.
[[Conditions met.
It's too bad this one is too rotten from frostbite to eat. I use the Magic Power I just gained to accelerate
“Durghan, where was that last enemy presence?” The others are still standing a bit away because of the deadly blue frost on the ground. They look a little pale even though I just healed them. I guess they must be cold.
“That way,” Durghan pointed. “Its weaker than before. Also, the allied presences I felt around it have decreased to one. That one is considerably strong, but quickly growing weaker.”
“If we hurry, we might make it in time.” I step away from the frozen ground, and back onto the grass. “Let's go.”
The place we’re going to is a bit to the Northwest of our current location: it isn't actually that far. But before we can arrive, Durghan announces, “The enemy presence is gone, Chief Vyra.”
Eh? They won? I'm impressed.
“And the allied presence?”
He lowered his chin, “Fading fast, and immobile.”
Hmm. I should be close enough to use
Name: Varoon
Age: 221 days
Gender: Cisgender Male
Race: War Orc (Mutation: Monk); Monster (¾).
Golden Boar; Magic Beast (¼)
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Skills (Embedded): 3/6 skill slots.
Skills (Learned):
None
Blessings:
Gift of Tongues (Orc)
Perfect Omnivore (Orc)
Gift of Unarmed Combat (Monk)
Curses:
Unending Hunger (Negated: War Orc)
Disordered Magic Power (Monster Halfbreed)
Status:
Body: Near Death (Blood Loss, Multiple Organ Failure)
Heart: Disarrayed (Victory, Trauma, Worried For Significant Other)
Mind: Unconscious (Blood Loss)
Soul: Stable
“Brother?!” I shout out without thinking and immediately increase my pace.
“Chief?!” The others call out and try to keep up with me, but I don't hesitate to leave them in the dust.
Near death it says! Near death!
I ignore everything else and charge with all my power. I deliberately slam into a tree to stop my momentum, knocking the tree over and bruising my ribs badly.
My brother is essentially unrecognizable from how he looked when I last saw him. His build is closer to a War Orc, but a little stouter. He has a square face with thick tusks, brown skin, pointy ears, and a normal nose. There also seem to be cream-colored markings on his skin.
However, he’s lying on the ground, all of his limbs torn off, and his forehead dented in. There are stab wounds, black burns, and disintegrated patches of skin all over his body.
“
Status:
Body: Dead (Major Brain Aneurism)
Soul: Preparing for Separation (331 units remaining)
Brother! Tears well up in my eyes, and my heart starts seizing.
[[Conditions met.
[[
There’s nothing to think about. I cast
Status:
Body: Near Death (Blood Loss, Multiple Organ Failure)
Soul: Stable
Good.
“Vyra?” he muttered, looking up at me. The color drains from his face.
I'm still absolutely pouring tears, but I don't feel ashamed at all. My brother is alive. I was able to save him.
“Hang on a minute,” I said with my nose sounding plugged up. “I'll finish recovering your limbs in a moment. Sorry I can't fix all the bruising.”
I'm only barely going to have enough Magic Power to keep him from being crippled, at this rate.
Varoon laid there quietly for a moment while I used up the last of my Magic Power. When the white light of
“You should heal yourself now,” he said. “This much is fine for me.”
I couldn't help but laugh a little. “I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm a little bruised from hitting a tree when I rushed over here, but I don't have any other injuries worth mentioning.”
I was just caught up in the warm feeling of my brother caring about me, when Varoon cleared his throat to get my attention back.
“But, um, sister?”
I broke out in a smile, and Varoon grimaced. “Yes, brother?” I asked back playfully.
“You look,” he rolled his eyes, struggling and failing to find polite words, “really terrible. Honestly, it's hard to look at your face right now.”
“Em?” I feel like I hiccuped, rather than made a proper sound. Curiously, I lifted a hand to my face.
Oh man. He’s not kidding.
I glanced at the group that had been fighting with me all this time, and they were all avoiding eye contact.
Oi. None of you were going to tell me?
I let out a sigh. “I would heal it, but I used up all of my Magic Power. Anyway, they're just scars, so you don't have to worry.”
I lend Varoon my hand and help him stand up.
“Well, all the Small Baphomets are dead, so we should go back to make sure the others we brought are holding up against the Fomors. Do you want to come?”
Varoon thought about it and nodded.
“What we should do?” One of the four War Orcs we picked up muttered.
“Your chief is dead, right? I don't mind if you guys and your surviving townsmen want to come to my village.”
“But you is Neutral Orc. We is Allied Orc. Leaving front lines and giving up on South forest is,” they shared looks with each other hesitantly.
“Don't worry about that,” I smiled. “They came to our forest this time, right? I'll be using that as an excuse to lead an offensive. More Small Baphomets could be born every summer, right? A hostile race like that should be exterminated or enslaved while they're weak.”
I wonder why momma’s the only one smiling? Oh yeah, my face is ugly right now, huh? I mean, it couldn't be that they're disturbed by my words, right? Taking over the South forest is exactly what these guys want.
“Anyway, I brought some Humans along. I'd really better make sure they're safe.”
I'm sure they're fine, though. It's not like they'd be stupid enough to fight without a group, and they should be strong enough to at least dodge a Fomor’s attacks, right?
Actually, I'm kind of worried. Let's hurry.
Sprinting North, I'm working the others until they're a bit ragged. I would heal them, but I'm out of Magic Power. Well, this is good training.
We reach Irsha and Varoon’s village. Just a bit East, we find the main battleground. I use
Next I search for Humans, and I find two living humans in a clearing not far away. I take a single step in that direction and suddenly hear wailing. Stopping in place, I instinctively use
I charge through into the clearing. Several Orcs are finishing off a few Fomors. A few feet away, Rudan is lying on the ground, one of his legs cut off. Elianora is kneeling beside him, crying, half finished wrapping his leg stump in bandages.
Oh spirits no.
I rush over. According to
“Chief Vyra,” Elianora is kneeling beside me, hiccuping as tears stream down her face. “Please heal him.”
“I'm out of Magic Power,” I respond numbly.
Locking my elbows, I begin the chest compressions. I hear his rib cage crack a bit. Well, I hear that happens sometimes. I'm careful not to use too much strength. I don't remember much from my first aid class in middle school, but after about thirty compressions to the beat of a certain optimistic song, I bend over, tilt his chin back, plug his nose, and breathe into his mouth, twice. Then I go back to chest compressions. Every time I get a little Magic Power back, I use it to try and return the blood flow.
“What are you doing, Chief?” Fiara asked.
Is this the time to be curious, Fiara?! No, what I'm doing probably looks strange.
“It’s CPR,” I say automatically. I quickly try to remember the meaning of the acronym, “Cardiopulmonary resuscitation. The idea is to get the heart beating and the lungs breathing again by forcing them to make their living movements.”
I stop to breathe into his mouth again.
“But since he died from blood loss, his chances are low.”
I'm going to keep doing this until his Soul separates.
Wait, no…
“Fiara, you keep doing this. Press firmly, but don't crush him. I'm going to try and gather enough magic power to cast
I leave quickly. Based on the rate at which those units were decreasing, I think I have about six minutes. I run off to wherever
“
[[User lacks sufficient Magic Power to cast
“Dammit!
Why did I bring you weaklings?!
His blood volume isn't recovering fast enough.
“Fiara, keep your hands on his chest and cast
“What?” Elianora cried out in concern, but I ignored her.
There’s a thump sound as Rudan’s body jolts. I wait a moment while continuing to cast
“Again.”
Fiara shocks him again without hesitating, then asks, “Why?”
“The electric element in the body controls reflexes. Again,” she obeyed, “including the heartbeat. If there’s no electricity in there, adding some sometimes helps. Again.”
Fiara shocks him again, her eyes sparkling. “Interesting.” She now seems invested in seeing someone come back to life with this method.
“Again.” I'm trying not to let the stress show through in my voice. Thirty seconds until separation. “Again.” Gods, why won't he wake up? “Again.”
Ten seconds left. It's now or never. “Fiara, make it intense enough to kill him all over again.”
The sound of electricity comes first, then the response, “Yes, chief.”
Status:
Body: Dead (Blood Loss)
Soul: Separated; Revival Impossible.
I stared blankly for a moment while Fiara waited for my next order. “Fiara, you can stop.”
“What do you mean? You can't give up!” Elianora’s eyes widen in shock. “You have to save him! He can't die like this! Please, you have to do something--!”
“--I'M NOT A GOD!” I practically screamed in her face. “His soul’s already been pulled into the cycle of reincarnation! What do you want from me?”
I threw my Demonic Wolf hat on the ground and ran my fingers through my short red hair, pacing in a circle. Then I stop and face the weeping human woman.
“Do you need the body for a funeral?”
“He can't be dead,” she muttered, shaking her head with blank eyes. “I was going to help him be able to see his family again. He should have been able to see them again. Oh Gods, why did this happen?”
I can't expect anything from her right now.
“Fiara, use an ice spell to preserve the body. We’ll take it back just in case.”
I wiped out most of the remaining Fomors in this area during my previous rampage, so I lead my Orcs back to Irsha’s home village. I'm holding Rudan’s frozen corpse over my shoulder while Momma piggybacks a whimpering Elianora.
“My name is Vyra: chief of Vyra’s Village, and the Orc Lord. I have to settle some things in my village, but I'll be back in a few days to help with cleanup here. I'll also be leading an assault against the Fomors.”
I announce that in New Orcish in the village center, and I leave a handful of Orcs behind to help spread the word. They've been ordered to keep away from the Fomors as much as possible. It wouldn't be funny if my contacts died.
Now the rest of us will take our time going home.