ALL NOVEL Ch. 2.19 Golem Smash
19.
The first [Metal Golem] crashed down the street in an avalanche of grinding metal. Santi raced toward it as his weapon morphed into a claymore. The extra reach of the oversized blade was going to be useful, he reasoned to himself. It had nothing to do with wanting to show off to Cameron and Bianca.
He flashed by the group of peak Initiate fighters in a blur, dancing on the corpses of their slain foes. The evolution jump was more than raw stats. It was the ability to use the stats to a higher potential. Dancing on uneven and broken lumps of metal seemed a breeze now, far easier than it should have been.
In the original timeline his evolution had been so poor that there had barely been a difference. At least in comparison to now. Santi just wanted to revel in the power of his new body, to just fly free and explore. There was just the problem of a large encampment of people who were on the brink of starving. He could push himself against the Acolyte level monsters at least.
Santi leapt into the air, sword raised up and behind his back, ready to cleave the slow moving golem in half. His heart pounded and adrenaline flooded his body as he hung there for a second. The golem twitched, its upper arms raising up and crossing themselves in a shield ready to take the blow.
Santi started to descend and couldn’t help but smile as he brought the morph blade down in an executioner's swing. The golem’s top arms crossed into an X and Santi hit the center of it. The reverberations would have knocked the blade out of his hand if there wasn’t a tendril wrapped around his wrist.
Metal sheared with a scream of protest as the two arms were deeply gouged. He hadn’t managed to cut clean through, the blade was stuck halfway in severely damaging both of the arms, but not making them inoperable.
And now he was standing in striking distance of a physical monster. Santi willed his blade to liquid and recalled it while jumping back. A foot came crashing down right where he had been as the golem did a hop skip stomp. Asphalt exploded in a blast, pelting him as he continued to back up. He had gotten lost in wanting to show off and in the power boost from the evolution.
He was a mage, not a frontline fighter. There was a reason he hadn’t taken [Wind Blade].
[Crosscurrent-Orb] was thrown near instantly, Santi aiming the spinning whirlwind of destruction toward the mangled arms with ease. The explosion of air ruffled his clothes and threw a wave of dirt and dust around. He stood firm in the aftermath as he got to see the golem’s arms rip free under the windshear.
A gray javelin flew by his head, striking the golem in the chest and driving it backward. Its lower arms reached up and grabbed the javelin, pulling it free and showing the dinner plate sized hole in its chest.
Chad didn’t give it time to recover. A golden arrow was already in flight and crossed the distance in a flash. Feet before it hit, it tripled. Two golden arrows sliding out of the original shaft in a mana copy of the physical arrow. All three tore fist sized holes into the tall metal body of the golem.
The smell of hot metal wafted from the teetering golem as Santi closed the distance again. His party members had pushed the monster to its limit and he wasn’t going to let it recover.
The morph weapons lengthened and thinned into a needle and went through the hole that Adam had created. Santi jumped to the left and turned the end of the morph blade at a ninety degree angle. The morph weapon tugged the much heavier golem, but it didn’t budge. Santi planted his feet, digging deep and pulling as hard as he could.
For a second the golem’s strong body held firm. Then with a screech, the morph blade ripped free of its torso in a spray of separate metals that scattered across the street. The golem staggered drunkenly as half of its torso was ripped free.
Tank walked up to Santi, his cudgel like club over his shoulder as he stared at the still not dead golem.
“Tough bastard,” Tank remarked.
“Doesn’t die easy, that’s for sure. You want to finish it off?”
“Will this even do anything to it?” Tank asked, showing his homemade club.
“Probably not. You don’t have any skills with your new class?”
“I got one that could work.” Tank had been cagey about his evolution and class change. Just smiling and nodding when Santi had bothered to ask him. Before Santi could pester him with more questions, Tank started toward the reeling golem. It had mostly straightened itself out, but it was in poor shape.
Tank unlimbered his club and took a practice swing, using his hips like a baseball player did. Cracking his neck to the side, Tank bounced from foot to foot and then darted in with a burst of speed. The golem swung one of its remaining arms, but Tank slid under it, popping to his feet in a smooth motion. He landed in a batter's stance, large club cocked over his shoulder, and swung for the fences.
Right as the taped together bats would have hit the metal golem, a ruddy-red sheen appeared over it. Tank hit it right where Santi had just finished ripping into its torso. The blow was catastrophic, the clarion ring of a trumpet sounded out as metal was crushed under the force of the titanic swing.
The entire golem caved in as the force of the blow drove it towards the ground. Tank was already backing up, his one offensive power spent as another golden arrow arced over their heads to land the final blow against it.
Metal Golem lvl. 28
The kill notification popped into being even as the golem collapsed in a pile of metal. They had man-handled the big golem as a group fairly easily, but Santi had to imagine fighting one by himself would have been a bit more difficult. He didn’t have enough offensive spells yet to truly fight with magic alone. With time that would change.
“You finally going to tell me what your new class is?” Santi whined at Tank. He hated the mystery of it. It was still some type of medic, but what was the exact type?
“You can’t stand not knowing, can you?”
“Nope.”
“I’m a [Battle Medic]. I wanted to take something that would work out here in the field rather than specializing into a more stationary magic.”
“What was that skill you used?”
“[Defense of the Wounded]. It’s the only attack skill I had offered to me. It wouldn’t have worked if you weren’t hurt.”
“What do you mean I’m hurt? I’m fine.”
“You have a scrap of asphalt stuck in your face.”
“Just hanging there?”
“Oh yeah. Big old piece of asphalt, right in your cheek.”
Santi felt around his face and touched the long hot sliver of asphalt. Santi plucked it free and stared at the single drop of blood on the end of it. He hadn’t sensed it coming at all with his senses, another oversight with the influx of stimuli.
“Thanks. Couldn’t have mentioned that earlier?”
“Needed you to be injured to use my skill.”
“I understand what you’re saying. I just don’t like it.”
“How many of those things did you notice when you went through the warehouse?”
“Seven at least.”
“So there’s more coming?”
“Should be.”
“There is,” Hana said as her skill deactivated. Santi had felt her entering his sphere of awareness, but her skill had kept her partially cloaked from his sight. Tank jumped in fright though, so that sort of made up for letting Santi walk around with a piece of concrete in his face.
Her cloaking skill wasn’t like Daniel’s where he blended into the shadows. It was closer to light bending around her till she was little more than a heat mirage.
“They’re coming down here?” Tank asked after he got his breath back. Adam and Chad came walking down the street while the other fighters cautiously walked closer to them.
“No, they’re standing in a line around the warehouse.”
“Alright. Should we push on? Clear the warehouse or keep waiting for more people to rank up and evolve?” Tank asked. Chad and Adam shrugged while Hana looked torn. Santi shot her questioning look.
“I don’t feel comfortable being the primary scout. Daniel has way more experience doing it.”
“What are your guy’s levels?” Santi asked toward the line of fighters coming forward. They had cleared a bunch of the junk golems and had to be getting close to the levels needed.
“22,” Cam said instantly. The rest of them were around the same as Bianca had gotten up to 23.
“Y’all go back home. We’ll clear the guards outside of the warehouse but won’t enter the rift,” Santi said.