Chapter 147: Beast's Settlement IV

A minimum of ten percent of energy was needed to supply the second Overclock. Enough—more than enough for Rickart to receive Ned's intention.

ICE couldn't stop Ned, he's got all the privilege into his system. But ICE warned Ned about the effects of the second Overclock. For once, after the protocol, he might collapse. Aching muscles that might last weeks. But Ned couldn't care, especially if it was their lives on the line.

Rickart's feet blurred over the dried grasses. He skidded Keesha's body, and went through a series of entrails, chipped bones (torso; one looked like a rib or a part of it), and paling against dried blood bodies.

After his command, Ned's skin turned reddish. It wasn't as red like his first Overclock, but enough for Sasani to notice a streak line and steam of white air swirling around his shoulders.

"Ned... " Was all she could say. "You—"

A bang echoed across Sasani. Sparks flew, dagger pressed against short-sword, they fought. Ned's back in front of her, she took a step backward. Giving a good space for the two to fight.

Gogmurch's eyes turned twinkling. The old goblin survived by fighting. And fighting was all he cared about. Seeing the two fought, it let out a quick yelp. It gripped the war-ax the old goblin has been longing to use.

Rickart used the remaining mana he has, added to it his life force. He snapped and fought Ned whom he thought the only enemy he has.

Magic beasts chanted; as if looking to the humans fighting inside a pit. They roared and screamed.

Rickart stabbed Ned with a dagger upfront. He was tireless. With his mind wandering off, Rickart couldn't feel any pain, or fatigued. His life force has been supplementing and mending the energy he had lost. His hands almost blurring.

But Ned wouldn't lose either. With a sizzling body, he blocked Rickart's attack above. Another stab he blocked.

Rickart threw a knee. Ned blocked the knee before it even landed, he was pushed to the side. Ending in a stack of dried grass with sticks snapping. Rickart followed up; no spells, no hidden weapons. Just his dark dagger and life force.

Sasani gawked. A porter, dealing a hunter. Her eyes show admiration whilst uneasiness. Will Ned win? Will, he lost? Is it necessary to win? Sasani clenched a feast in the middle of her breasts. It was a battle she can't possibly join with. Not with her current skillset. Her eyes could almost follow the two.

All these in under three seconds of Ned's Overclock.

Rickart followed up. Pressing Ned against a makeshift shelter. Both blades caught each other. Interlocking mid-air.

"You!" Rickart cried. Not even a blink he looked at Ned. "You! You did it! You killed Keesha!"

"Snap—" Ned said, gritting his teeth against Rickart's overwhelming strength. "Out of it!" Ned raised his hands, attracting Rickart's force along the way. With open chest, Ned tossed his head. Headbutting Rickart which made him stumbled backward. Shaking his head in the process.

"You!"

"Snap out of it!" Ned cried under his steaming breath. He dashed forward with four seconds left on his Overclock. Ned injected mana into Boom, aiming at his former party member's limbs. Making sure it won't kill him.

Rickart ducked. Evading the tip in one single breath. He then spun around, stretching his leg, trying to sweep Ned off his feet.

The injected short-sword missed. Ned jumped to evade the sweep and flipped backward. Three seconds left. Three heartbeats, he raised his hand. Throwing a fireball, and with a quick breath, he threw another. Two fireballs: the same path: the same speed; one target.

The spell whistled. With strength and resolve, Rickart evaded the spell. He switched footing, letting the fireball pass by a hair thick in his side. Pretty sure his vision read one fireball. Yet another came along. With less than a second gap, Rickart's raised his dagger, blocking the second fireball.

At two seconds Ned knew, his fireball wasn't enough to down the rogue hunter. With a drizzle of sweat, and a paling skin. Ned approached Rickart.

Smoke enveloped Rickart. It swirled around his head, down to his shoulder, and bleeding arms. The leaking mana saved his limbs from tearing apart. Yet... He smiled. Miniature, yet a smile.

Ned had to make sure that the mana he injected on his spell was enough to save what left of Rickart. It was clear. Now is the time. He flashed toward Rickart with one second left on his Overclock.

Although exhausted, Ned raised his sword regally. Fatigue started to sink in. He dashed, feet dimmed with black.

After a meter or two, Ned flurried to the right. Grazing Rickart to his left elbow.

Rickart knew; it is time. Part of his hand was bleeding—doesn't matter. He spun to follow Ned. He has lost it, most of it; mana, and life force. But he needed to move. It was clear, the smell of Keesha's burning body, her deformed face, her charcoaled eyes. But she was dead: same as Sidric, Malik, Darwyn—definitely Darwyn. It was clear; his party. The party he once considered a family—gone. But Rickart was driven with something. Something to live. To survive. His life doesn't matter. Yet, he needed to survive.

Of what was left of him, be it mana or life. He moved. He lurched. Stumbled as he spun. And with stiffing muscles, he dashed with all the might he have.

"Now," Ned said after he stopped across Keesha. He then grabbed her by her arm and pulled her toward the beasts. Going east: to where the sea was; to where the sun had first shown its brilliance; to where their team was.

He felt it. The fatigue inhibiting his body. Slowly; terrible. Ned must endure. I must endure. He thought. Dashing to the group of swamp goblins and wargs and sinking hounds.

The facing goblin shrieked in surprise. It fell tumbling on its feet. With prey coming their way, the wargs dashed. Two of the warg and another sinking hound. All dashed in four.

Ned went through a series of skipping. Rocks, woods, dead bodies, they passed. He raised a hand, conjuring another fireball. Which made his mana down to a digit of 2, 860. With all the movement and Overclocking his body maneuvered, his energy went to a meager three percent. After he fought Rassus, this was the first time Ned felt what exhaustion was.

At one second; even if its a hundred percent, fifty, or a mere one percent, Ned would find a way. Ned raised the sword, with a force he precisely controlled, he slashed the warg mid-air. Spilling red liquid, warm and wan blood sprinkled on Ned's cheek. He continued, the second warg didn't leap. In an instant, after seeing the first warg fell with an open gut, it learned a lesson. Grey fur stood eager, the second warg leaped to its right. Successfully evading the range of Ned's short-sword. The sinking hound went through, its alligator-like snout opened as it bolted straight to Ned.

Before the Overclock ended, Ned made a quick sidestep. Letting the sinking hound scrape an air. With a quick slash vertically, the sinking hound spilled blood. It fell to where the first warg was.

"Ned!" Sasani cried, muffled, and a soft voice echoed behind Ned.

It was the second warg, making its way to Ned. Ned spun, and with aching joints, and muscles, Overclock ended—he fell. He raised Boom, shielding his face from the approaching warg. The second warg bit the iron sword.

Blood gargled on the warg's neck. A swift dark dagger pierced into it, it fell with its teeth gripping on Ned's short-sword. It was Rickart's dagger. Rickart then stopped beside Ned, pulling the dagger on the second warg. Blood spilled and flowed over a small cavity on the ground.

"Ned," Rickart said whispering. He leaned closer to Ned. "Better move, now."

Sasani stopped a second after Rickart pulled his dagger. Ned stood, clenching his knees. Rickart moved forward, slashing goblins, and warg along the way.

It wasn't just Ned who was exhausted. Even Rickart, arrow hit him on its leg. The same leg with the wound. He couldn't go down. Rickart endured the warming pain, and snapped to half the arrow. He continued forward. Making a narrow path for the two.

Sasani shot arrows, some hit, some died. She gripped Ned's arms, supporting him along the way. It was too much for them, no hunters with only wood and iron rank could survive the mess they were now. But they must press forward, to live to survive.

Heavy footsteps ground on the rock from behind. A great hum went drumming behind them. The three didn't look back, no need to. A little more push, everything would end. They just need to leave the settlement, signal other hunters, and will come to their aid. But no hunters went through the settlement, they've been on a quest for hours and the last hunter they have seen was at the entrance of the Du'kki forest. They must be at the very deep of the island, perhaps an unexplored one. Doesn't matter, they must survive. Leave the rest: Sidric, Malik, the beasts. The beast—