Return of the Wind Mage: A Regression litrpg

[Gust] swept the primus down and towards Santi, causing the great ape to slam into the beam with its chest. The entire beam rocked from the weight, but as the primus’s thick fingers scrambled to pull itself up, Santi attacked.

The morph lengthened into a long lance and he stabbed down, impaling the alpha through its thick trapezius as it jerked at the last minute to avoid the lethal head wound. Its right arm was a mangled mess and now Santi severed the muscles and bones that connected the arm to the rest of the body.

It grunted and a limber foot grabbed the beam and it hoisted itself up and forced Santi back as it donkey kicked at him. Santi slashed multi jointed toes free of the offending foot, but the beast managed to get back to its feet with a grunt.

The entirety of its right side was caked in blood, the fur pressed down and sodden. Its right arm hung loose and dangling uselessly while its left lifted up and in front of it in an ineffectual guard. A hint of panic was showing in its face, finally breaking though the rage and pain it had been operating in for the last few minutes.

Santi had managed to lure it up here and away from its help, from its affinity, to a place where Santi was more even footed with it. Now it was just coming down to the fact that Santi had better equipment than it. Nothing the beast could do could stop the morph weapon and its infinite possibilities. There was nowhere to dodge unless it wanted to fall to the court far below. It could normally survive, but in its mangled state, it would be painful.

Duncan was drifting around somewhere, waiting for another chance to attack him, but the Apostate’s ally was running out of time. Santi had no doubt that the alpha was just another tool in the man’s box, but it wasn’t an easily replaceable one. He’d come and attack to prevent the primus from dying.

“Leave and I won’t hunt you,” the primus chuffed out.

“I will be leaving here, you won’t,” Santi said, preparing himself for the final clash between them. [Air Current] whispered to him that Duncan was behind him, moving slowly and cautiously.

“I will protect my nest and my troop. That is all I want!” The primus stomped a foot on the beam, causing it to ripple under the impact. The move disguised Duncan’s footfalls. Somehow they were communicating, working together to cover the backstab.

“I don’t give a fuck what you want. You’re both dying,” Santi spat, spinning on a heel as the morph became a long, razor sharp wire that he snapped around him like a halo. Duncan cursed and scrabbled backward as a piece of the man’s nose was lopped free.

The primus wasn’t as lucky. The razor wire sliced apart flesh and muscle with ease and the monkey’s intestines bulged free of its gut. A scream of animalistic pain and rage battered Santi’s ears, but he was already moving. [Gust] flung Duncan back and off the I-beam and toward the ground. The morph shortened and condensed to a long boar spear and Santi awkwardly grounded himself to take the alpha’s charge. His broken arm was useless, but he did his best as the alpha threw itself at him.

It was moving too fast to avoid the eighteen inches of sharpened metal that punched through bone like butter. The force of its momentum caused Santi to stagger back,the spear twisting awkwardly in his grip even as the ape’s swiping left hand grazed his chin.

It was like getting punched by a prizefighter. The world spun and he lost his balance, his foot missing its placement and the sudden downward feel made his stomach lurch as he began to fall.

“Shit!” Santi spat out, blood and a tooth coming free as he turned his tumble into a dive, pushing off with his one grounded foot toward the second deck. The morph turned into a grapple hook and line which caught the railing of the second level with only a bit of help from [Air Manipulation] and then he was swinging back down to the main concourse. Santi landed in a heap, his legs giving out as he fell to the ground, landing on his bad shoulder.

A terrible boom rattled the stadium as the primus fell to the basketball court. Santi lay there for a split second, breathing through the fiery pain that threatened to overwhelm him. He drug himself up, his massive willpower the only thing keeping him going. He stood there on shaky legs as he looked around the concourse.

There was no one around, the entire stadium having emptied out to go and fight the invaders. Maybe some of the lieutenants were left in the room with Yesi, but they weren’t poking their heads out. No kill notifications had dinged for either the primus or the Apostate.

Santi took stock of his situation and decided he was going to finish off the big ape. He couldn’t afford to let the big monster get back to its feet or healed, not after he had spent so much time whittling it down to size. Keeping close attention to his surroundings, Santi started to limp down toward the courtyard.

Minutes ago he had sprinted up them without thought, now every step sent a lance of pain through a twisted ankle and his broken arm and shoulder. Blood dribbled out of his mouth and his tongue ran itself over the spot his missing tooth was supposed to be.

The [Primus Alpha] was ruined. Bones jutted free of its body, spiky announcements to a great physical trauma. Blood spread out from it like a lake and its eyes were half lidded as it struggled to breath. How it was still alive was a testament to its massive durability and vitality. A pink bubble formed on its thick lips and then popped as it tried to speak as Santi reached it.

Its left hand trembled, trying to form a fist as its dark eyes raged impotently at him. Santi turned the morph into a wide and wicked axe as he stopped right outside of its range.

“Told ya, you’re not leaving here.”

The primus could do nothing except gurgle and spit, its lungs not giving it the air needed to breath. The handle on the axe got longer until it was closer to a poleaxe. Santi took careful aim and finished the beast with a single blow, the axe cutting through its neck to embed itself into the splintered court.

A dagger entered Santi right above his hip. It had been moving so fast that in his battered state he couldn’t have dodged in time. A shadow formed beneath him and a second blade entered him in a mirror of the first. Santi bit back a cry of pain as he lunged over the alpha’s corpse, reaching and dragging the dagger out from his back.

“Aim was off,” Duncan said conversationally as he walked across the court. Santi peaked over the primus’s body and saw the Apostate standing there, holding another dagger.

“You ruined my plans for this area. I hope you’re happy with that. Without the alpha the rest of them will go wild. I would be willing to bet that even right now the rest of the troop has turned on my men. Not only that but that was a good kill, lots of potential and experience. I was hoping to finish it off before you got here, but that tumble took a bit out of me. Had to drink one of my healing potions.”

“Shut the fuck up already,” Santi said as he got to his feet. His entire left side wasn’t working properly, his leg dragging as he got up. He kept the morph in its saber form and lifted it to peer down the blade at Duncan. The plain faced assassin simply shrugged and started walking closer.

The healing must still be working or the potion had been weak. There was still a slight limp when Duncan moved as he favored his right side. Santi couldn’t move for shit, but he staggered away from the monster’s corpse and stood near the halfcourt line right over the top of the basketball team's logo and waited as Duncan got to him.

“I think I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Duncan whispered.

“Get to it then,” Santi said, lashing out with a flick of his wrist. The blade lengthened at the last second, but Duncan dropped to his heels and then sprang directly at him. Time seemed to slow down for a moment as Santi saw what he needed to do and prepared himself.

[Air Shield] formed at Santi’s sternum and was angled downward, preventing the assassin from hitting his heart or throat. [Air Manipulation] helped tug Duncan’s arm down so the blade was aimed at Santi’s side. Duncan snarled, his face twisting in fury as he felt his aim change. The man was simply too fast and slippery with how wounded Santi was right now. It had to be done like this if he hoped to win the fight.

The dagger hit him on his right side, beneath his ribs. Pain exploded through Santi as he reached down and grabbed the Apostate’s bicep. The morph turned to liquid and flowed over the man’s bicep like a snake. With a thought Santi severed the man’s arm and hit him with [Gust]. The explosion of wind rocked Santi back even as it sent Duncan flailing across the court.

He left the knife in his guts as he started to limp toward the crumpled assassin. The man’s stump was pulsing blood and as Santi limped closer Duncan managed to get to his feet, twice slipping in his own pool of blood. Panic and shock filled his face as he started to backpedal and run away, leaving behind a crimson trail as he staggered up the stairs to the concourse.

Santi lifted a blood hand and cast [Air Shield] in front of the fleeing man. Duncan smashed into the invisible barrier and bounced backward and started to tumble down the stairs toward Santi. Santi waited for him and Duncan finally arrested his fall only ten feet or so in front of Santi. He rose on shaky legs to look at Santi, his face pale and drawn as blood continued to pulse out of him.

“It’s not supposed to end like this,” Duncan whispered.

“Is it ever?” Santi raised his arm, blade lengthening into a spear as the Apostate stood there waiting for his end.

A bolt of green sizzled by Santi’s ear, searing his scalp and causing him to jerk back in pain. A cry of alarm rose and feet came trampling down the steps as Duncan’s illusive lieutenants finally made their appearance. On instinct Santi tossed a [Crosscurrent-Orb] toward the group as he slid to the ground, careful to not land on the pommel of the dagger still wedged in him.

The concussive blast of wind covered up a few cries, but when Santi poked his head back up he saw them fleeing with the Apostate wedged between them. They didn’t head toward the VIP box that they had been holding his sister, but rather toward the exit of the stadium.

“FUCK NO” Santi screamed as he got to his feet. Another blast of green light came at him but [Air Shield] dispersed the spell as his attacker stayed behind to slow him down. A short woman with frizzy black hair that shot up around her, her pale features were stern and unflinching as she marched toward him without a weapon.

Santi wove [Air Manipulation] around her head and strangled her. She missed her step and fell to the ground, fingers clawing at her throat as Santi limped up and over her and headed towards the concourse. Every step was sending bolts of agony through him as he looked at the empty area, the Apostate having escaped him.