Chapter LI: To Become A God (7)

Previously

Refocusing on the matter at hand, I jumped on top of the first knight’s sword and ran up to him from his sword like an ant does up a human’s arm. His other free hand tried to swat me away but I was too fast for his big, clunky arms. The other tank tried to help him by banging his shield extremely loud, disorienting me for a second which nearly allowed the first knight to punch me off his arm with his fists the size of a car. 

It was then that I saw a chink in their armor. I observed the clearly written ‘Alive’ runic symbol on their foreheads and knew what I had to do. Only, I wasn’t able to do it since the support mage finally made herself known, finishing her chant and casting a spell of flash-freeze on me for one second—a second enough for the first knight to swat me off his arm, sending me tumbling down with enough force to make my body which had gone through hellish training, moan in pain. 

Jesus, it felt like a car had rammed into me. “Hm,” I took in a deep breath of air. My lungs still hurt but some of the pain had alleviated, enough for me to quickly side-roll, narrowly escaping a shrub of vines that would have trapped me in place.

“Right,” I stared down the three shadows. “Let’s do this.”

I rushed in again, this time not without a plan. My legs were working as fast as they could but the pain to my sides had somewhat decreased my speed, leaving me more vulnerable to the knight’s attacks. I spun away from a shield bash that would have knocked me out, jumping up before using the back of the shield-knight’s head to trampoline me straight to the sword-knight’s head. 

I winced in pain when I tensed every muscle in my quads to shoot towards the sword-knight since I would need all the speed to dodge any attack the sword-knight would make while I was in mid-air. The shield-knight had tumbled over from the strength of my kick which would have shocked the two shadows if they were alive. 

Instead, I get a barrage of debuff spells shooting towards me when I land on the sword-knight’s face. “Hmph!” I let out a grunt as with all the strength I had, I punched a small dent in the runic symbol covering the knight’s forehead, impeding the meaning of the word before jumping off, avoiding the mass of debuff spells. 

I just took a little glance back and saw with joy that the sword-knight froze in motion before turning into smoky ash. Now that left me with the shield knight and the support mage. The shield knight was way to the back of me and was still standing up so I could focus on the support mage who was frazzledly trying to cast a new spell. 

Out of the many spells it was concocting, the first and fastest one–a debuff spell of speed shot out towards me but I wasn’t so foolish to fall for it the second time. 

Clutching my sides in pain, I weaved through the mage’s spell, running towards her in a zig-zag pattern, swerving past the wave of attack spells on it’s way. To an observer, it may look like I had this one in the bag but that was far from the truth. 

I was under immense pressure, having to focus on the shield buffon rushing towards me from the back and the annoying mage doing a hit and run tactic, trying to buy itself time so that the shield knight would reach me. My side abs were also in extreme pain due to my quick, explosive movements. The attacks were nothing to worry as it was merely wild, inexpert and minor but they annoyed me since they always slowed me down just before I could grab the mage.

“Alright,” I muttered. “You wanna play that way?” 

I stopped trying to chase after the support mage and adopted a sprinter’s initial position, with my hands to my side, clutching the ground and one knee lunged forward with the other kicked back. Using all the strength I had left, I clenched onto the ground, enough to leave a small dent as I pulled myself back, readying myself like a slingshot. 

My spine tingled when the loud thumping sound of the shield-knight’s feet rang closer to me but I was patient. I knew what I was doing was correct since the support mage was frozen in place, wondering what I was doing but not dull-witted enough to just stop and stare. It took the time I gave it to cast a new spell, this one containing far more mana than any of it’s other spells. 

“Like I’ll let you!” I released the tension on my body and shot forward like a bullet, surprising the support mage who had switched it’s spell to shift and run away. “Too late!” I used the energy from my momentum and kicked off the last jump, leaping straight up and towards the support mage before directing all of the energy into my fist as I shot down. 

“Annoying, fucking bug.” My fist cocked back to the point even my elbows were slung back. The support mage blasted debuff after debuff onto me but I didn’t have to worry anymore since by the time it had casted it’s second spell, my fist had already landed on it’s shadowy face and onto the ground as it disappeared, leaving a gust of wind that caused my clothes to flap about and a massive dent in the grounds. 

But I wasn’t allowed to revel in my glory since I had been sent flying back instantly from a sudden shield bash to my sides. Why always the side?! I didn’t even have enough energy anymore to control and stop my momentum as I was left tumbling and bouncing off the floor like a flying cod off the ocean. 

When I finally crashed into an area around a hundred meters from my previous small crater, I finally stopped as I groaned in pain. If the shield bash before felt like a truck, this felt like I had been hit with a freaking airplane. I couldn’t feel any bone or muscle in my body. I couldn’t move. The only thing I could do was curse the fact that I had been bothered enough by the support mage to forget about the shield knight and the fact that I was still conscious due to the monolith's authority.

The shield knight stared me down from afar before it vanished, along with the barrier casted by the monoliths over the training grounds and I felt all the pain in my being disappear like it never happened. 

The mental exhaustion however, remained. A whoosh of the clothes and the quiet tap on the floor, I didn’t need to look to know who was approaching me. 

“You were hasty,” She said. “You let your irritation interrupt your composure.” She looked down at me, her silver hair falling primly around her face like a waterfall. “And this is only the first level.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “If only I had my skills, I’d be able to heal myself and kick that knight to the shadow realm.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t let you use your skills,” Ivanka said. “Because you’ll-”

“Grow complacent, yada yada yada,” I replied in annoyance. How many times had she given me that speech for the two weeks I had been training under her? It made sense the first time but after getting your ass kicked with the same three shadow bastards, it just started to sound patronizing and annoying. 

“Please,” Ivanka shook her head. “Get up.” Then, she walked away. 

Letting out a huff of annoyance, I slowly got up to my knees and followed behind Ivanka, out and down the training grounds as I caught a whiff of something sweet. 

“You cooked something?” I asked with horror apparent on my face. Dear god, was she so disappointed with my performance that she was going to torture me with her food?

We walked over to our dining place. Well, it wasn’t really so much of a dining place since it was basically a bunch of wooden stumps crafted into couch-like seats in front of a rounded stone table Ivanka hastily made. Sometimes, if she had a hankering for meat the table would dissolve down into the earth as a grill rose up in it’s place. Such were the few things one could do if they had an authority or divinity. 

I sat on the opposite end of the round table as she sat at the head end. She circled her finger in the air as two plates full of sweet pie gently fell before our hands. I investigated the food and with surprise, I had to admit that Ivanka had greatly improved her cooking skills. 

Before, she only managed to burn or freeze something but now she was able to whip out something like a berry-crusted sweetpie. Sure, it looked rather crude and wasn’t really glazed in anything other than a few sprinkles of white sugar.

But, looks could be deceiving. Perhaps she had advanced enough in her horrible cooking that she made it look good, like a mimic treasure chest before devouring those enchanted by it’s appearance. 

Or, maybe not. 

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