Archmage (2)

Chapter 142 : Archmage (2)

“Hmm? What’s this?” The dark figure said aloud as he glanced over towards a particular panel to his right. There were dozens before him, one would wonder how this person even managed to observe them all. The “panels” were little more than light spells which carried various images. Some were live feeds, others were screens filled with numbers and data. One such panel caught his attention as he waved his right hand, causing the panel to enlarge while the others surrounding it shrank.

“What the heck? What’s she even doing out of the city. That’s not her jurisdiction.” The dark skinned man said as he scratched his cheek.

“Hmm. Curious, curious….” He repeated to himself as he placed a heavily bandaged hand against his cheek.

“Well. I guess I could use some exercise. It’s been a minute.” He said finally, dismissing all of the info panels with a flick of his wrist. He got to his feet and stretched, making sure to “warm up” before any physical exertion. He then snapped his fingers, causing a hooded cloak to appear on him.

“This should be interesting at least.” He remarked as he stepped forward, blinking out of existence in the process.

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Oliver Pagnal’s world turned dark. His left eye trickled ever so slightly with blood, a consequence of his own actions. He knew better than to push his Evil Eye even further, yet it couldn’t be helped. His vision grew hazy as well, though only one eye was affected -- this, he could manage.

*Dense muscles, meant for carnage and unfathomable power. I need something more powerful, superficial lightning or flames won’t cut it. I’ll need something ...more....* Oliver’s mind was like a steel trap, latching onto any idea which could help him to defeat the threat.

Against a stronger foe would it be possible? The elf was willing to take that gamble

He decided to try something ill advised, free magic in a life or death battle. Oliver even chuckled at his own hypocrisy. He would have drilled prudence into any of his students or fellow chapel members, yet it was the only option before him.

The Archmage lifted both hands, palms facing outwards as he prepared himself. He pulled forth what little mana he could from the atmosphere and infused it into two balls of rapidly growing earth and rock.

*Now comes the tricky part.* Oliver thought inwardly. He gritted his teeth and summoned all of his focus, pushing away the noise of his surroundings. His other senses dropped away as well, taste, sight -- even the dull pain in his abdomen. He clenched each hand, making a pair of fists as he activated his second magic. The large masses of earth energy began to crumple inwards, as if they were being crushed by an invisible hand. Both masses of earth quickly shrank from the size of a basketball to that of a marble due to the intense gravitational pull exerted upon them.

*Now shape them.* Oliver’s forehead was now filled with beads of sweat, a testament to his focus. Gravity magic was unruly to maintain on the best of days for him, he was really pushing his personal limitations at the moment. The small orbs of heavily condensed dirt first flattened, then began to reshape into the form of a jagged bullet.

The approaching creature was now within a distance that allowed Oliver to see the it’s features. Red eyes, six in total which lined it’s elongated face in two rows. Four arms, two legs and all muscle. It’s body was a deep sheen of black, graced by several red lines which reminded Oliver of magical veins. If he could see himself he would, no doubt , see the same sort of lines along his own face -- a consequence of pushing his mana to the limits.

Though his vision was blurred in one eye and he was already bleeding profusely, Oliver dared to go one step further.

“Copy Eye.” He grunted between pressed lips. His left eye began to glow with purple energy as a rune flashed, spiraling several times as Oliver’s will was done. Once more blood issued forth from his left eye, causing a steady stream of crimson to trickle down Oliver’s cheek. The creature, having taken keen notice of Oliver’s form and voice, launched into an attack.

*Ah. What should I call this one?* Oliver pondered to himself as the clone Grimlock dashed forward. It wasn’t nearly as fast as the original, but a threat nonetheless. Yet to Oliver who’s mind was dangerously close to unconsciousness, everything seemed to play out in slow motion. Oliver thrust both hands forward, flaring his fingers as he shouted the name of his newly improvised spell.

“Heavy Bullet!”

The two condensed earth bullets were propelled forward, powered by Oliver’s mana as well as aerodynamics. He created the bullets with small grooves to promote decreased wind shearing and acceleration for improved distance. Each bullet’s tip was like that of a drill, causing the heavy objects to pierce the air itself while making a unique howling sound.

The creature’s movements were agile, but Oliver timed his attack perfectly. The creature couldn’t evade even if it wanted to at that point. In an effort to shrug off the damage, the cloned Grimlock raised a pair of its arms in anticipation of the magical constructs. It flexed its muscles, hardening them just before impact -- yet this mattered not. The Heavy Bullets drilled into the creature’s flesh without resistance and easily pierced through in less than a second. The first bullet was aimed at the creature’s heart, while the second was aimed at it’s forehead. Both pierced the creature like a needle through paper, causing the Grimlock to first go limp then fall face forward with a heavy thud.

Oliver grinned, his objective having been achieved, as he watched the clone’s body turn into black wisps of smoke. He allowed himself this small moment of satisfaction, for he knew things would only get harder from this point on. He could feel his stance weakening, a sign that he’d used all of his magic yet again.

*Oliver!* Gates’ voice transmitted from his place next to Dealla and Shula. Though he was still carrying Gigi in his arms Gates still kept a keen eye on the battle as it unfolded. He was amazed to see Oliver take out his foe so quickly, but the moment Oliver’s knees buckled Gates understood.

The spell used must have required a lot, even for a rank two Archmage to cast. He wanted to rush over in support but the elf held up a single hand, as if to brush that thought aside. After a few deep breaths Oliver slowly got to his feet and faced the central threat.

Though his body felt heavy and his mind was hazy, Oliver knew that timing was of the essence. The next few seconds were critical, in part because Oliver doubted his own ability to stay conscious. His mana was all but depleted, and he lacked vision in his left eye now. Yet he held on. He couldn’t move, not a centimeter before he was ready, for he needed every bit of energy to take one last action.

Oliver focused himself once again, dancing on the razor’s edge of awareness and subconscious as he strained his one good eye. The wounded Fused Grimlock had also gotten to its feet, and Oliver’s hunch proved correct. Bracha had not moved since unleashing her onslaught against the creature.

*She’s spent.* Oliver’s gaze slowly drifted back towards the creature. Somehow it looked much larger than the one he’d just faced.

*Was it always this big? Fuck me.* He thought as a particularly large bead of sweat rolled down his brow. Bracha was motionless by choice, however the Fused Grimlock seemed incapable of movement altogether.

*Given the fact that it hasn’t spawned more of those damn clones, I can only assume two is the limit.* Oliver glanced in the direction of the faintly glowing white lights.

*Get up you bastard.* Oliver thought as he stared in the direction of Ryo, or atleast the magical glyph currently attached to him.

*I just.. Need to wait.* Oliver thought inwardly, repeating it as if the words were a self imposed mantra.

Bracha cast a glance in Oliver’s direction and felt thankful for his presence. She was also a rank two adventurer, yet she would be hard pressed to defeat an enemy of that caliber without taking extremes. Still, Bracha had to wonder how this situation would play out. Behind her were a group of adventurers who wouldn’t stand a chance against a foe of this caliber. She made a mental note of her expenditures.

*1.92%. I’m at my limit. It’s all I can do to maintain the glyph at this point.* Bracha thought to herself. Even moving at this point would incur a penalty. She could perform two, perhaps three more strikes at the most at this point -- less if she made the effort to close distance between herself and her foe.

The only upside was the fact that “idle time” would play in her favor. The Solar Glyph would boost their natural regeneration and help them overcome any ailments, but ultimately Bracha lacked the ability to heal them outright. Potions only worked within a certain distance and she didn’t have any left to begin with. All potions were pooled with Dealla and Shula who acted as both guardians and pseudo healers for both parties.

The skirmishes with lesser Grimlock wiped out those potions quickly, leaving them in such a dire predicament. From the looks of things Oliver’s mana was completely expended, he wouldn’t be able to heal anyone even if he wanted to.

*That just leaves one hope.* Bracha thought inwardly, and right around that time the Fused Grimlock began to move. Bracha had truly done a number on the creature. It’s body was covered in dents, cuts and bruises from head to toe. She’d managed to blot out half of it’s eyes and damage at least two of its arms beyond repair.

It also seemed to be suffering from limited mobility. At the very least the creature wasn’t charging in recklessly. The white glyph spinning at Bracha’s back began to flicker and fade, a signal that her time as a Guardian was slowly coming to an end.

*Come on. Attack me.* She thought inwardly. Bracha could only curse the fact that she lacked any real ranged attacks. This standoff continued for another few seconds, a voice interrupted the standoff.

*Bracha. Charge him.* It was Oliver’s voice and it sounded...tired.

*I can’t. I’ll lose my edge. Don’t you have anything left?*

*I do. But I need the creature to be distracted. I can’t afford to mess this up.* Oliver replied. Bracha sighed as she assessed her current strength. *1.96*

*Will this end the battle?* She asked. In reality she didn’t have a choice, but she wanted to check for one simple reason. Even a few more seconds would suffice as reason to recover Vivian and Ryo. Unless she had a good reason, Bracha would refuse to go along with Oliver’s request.

*50/50. At worst, it will be wounded and easier to get rid of. I was going to help you stall for time but...I can’t. I’m going to pass out. Make a choice dammit.* Oliver grunted, even as he whispered via transmission.

Bracha lingered for a few seconds longer before she made her decision.

*Very well. I’ll leave it to you.* She remarked as Bracha activated her time compression for the last time. She dashed forward, each step bringing her closer to cancellation of her strongest abilities. She infused her mana, creating fire glyphs on each hand as she leapt into the air. Her intent was to pounce on her foe and strike a furious blow.

Unfortunately her powers were spent, the aura of pure energy surrounding her body faded and her hair changed from white to golden blond. Time compression halted and Bracha was faced with a wounded foe that finally registered her presence. The creature reacted almost instantly, preparing a blow that was sure to break bone and burst organs.

“Heavy Bullet. Heavy Bullet. Heavy Bullet.” Oliver repeated the words continually as bullet after bullet flew forth from his outstretched hand. He gritted his teeth, blood trickling from his lips as he spoke. His free hand was clasped at his chest, as if each word spoken was like a dangerous blow to his health.

The first bullet pierced the creature’s body, embedding itself deep into its torso. The second and third shots were sent with purpose and Oliver’s aim was true. Each of them pierced through the creature’s body from the left side and smashed into the core powering it. The first shot to strike the core caused a massive chunk of the crystal to shatter and break away. The second further damaged the core beyond repair, embedding itself deep into the center of the core.

The creature lurched forward, completely forgetting Bracha as it’s body was pierced by high power, high density magic. It opened its mouth to shriek, only to be struck in the face by Bracha’s blow. The delayed impact then exploded, forcing the creature to drop to its knees while clenching it’s chest.

It’s remaining eyes bulged before spinning out of control as a healthy trickle of purple blood issued forth from both it’s chest and mouth.