B2 Chapter 167: Commute pt. 2

Kaius drew his blade in a moment, smokey crystal edges catching the light. His eyes snapped to the source of the voice, seeing the lead caravan guard staring off to the right of the caravan.

What had caught the man’s attention was immediately evident. Some twisted entity, more gnarled ball of flailing roots than any creature of flesh and blood. It had to be a thousand strides off, yanking itself forwards with flailing spears of bramble.

While beasts and the lower races were by far the most common threat people would face, they were not the only ones.

The abominations and undead he had faced in the Depths were the perfect example of that. This one was not quite as malign as those twisted mockeries, but it was still dangerous. Most likely some kind of spirit, or elemental. Usually they were seen in areas of high mana density, and even then, only occasionally.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the phase shift had reached the point that such creatures would appear in settled lands with more frequency.

Mana surged to his side, plates of jade clacking against each other as Porkchop’s barding popped into existence. Behind them, Ianmus was already channeling a free-casted spell, raw manipulation spinning mana into a working with impressive dexterity.

“Remember, brother, no spells.” Porkchop warned as he let loose a roaring cry of challenge, two of the lizard-like creatures who pulled the nearby merchant’s carriage hissing nervously.

“I know,” Kaius replied, rushing forwards at his brother’s side to join the lead defenders. Each was at least level forty, and they watched them with interest as they rushed forwards. As guards, they most likely had Common classes, and there was an assumption of strength of those who possessed the madness to willingly throw themselves at the clutches of death as a chosen vocation.

The ball of flailing roots drew closer as they reached the front of the pack, eerily silent except for the thwack of spiked wood digging into the soil. Most of the guards had crossbows and bows, waiting to fire until it drew in range.

Kaius focused on the creature with True Sight.

Bramble Ball – Level 32:

Least Spirit, Skirmisher

Light melee, a good opponent for the two of them, and low level to boot. At least, once his and Porkchop’s true strength was taken into account.

Snapping his head over to the lead guard, he whistled to catch his attention. “How good’s your men’s aim? And anyone got any decent concussive or severing skills?”

The man gave him an appraising look, the barest hint of a frown crossing his face as Kaius felt a glimmer of a probe against his Mask.

“You sure yer up for it, lad?” the man quickly asked, returning to watching the approaching spirit.

Kaius grinned, a hot flush creeping up the back of his neck. “Oh yes, sure as a taxman skims.”

The caravan guard looked back to him, watching him for the barest moment before giving a nod. “Gial, Rosh, cover him. Delver, yer mage-man looks like he’s channelling enough mana to shit himself. You create the opening, he sears it dead, ye hear? Listen for me yell and get the fuck out of the way when you hear it.”

Kaius looked back to Ianmus walking towards them, an intense look of concentration on his face as more and more solar mana streamed towards him, bound to his will. Kaius whistled softly to himself. Whatever Ianmus was doing, it had to have punch.

Giving the lead caravan guard a nod, he slapped his brother on the shoulder before seizing a saddle loop in his hand and leaping onto Porkchop’s back.

“Go.”

Porkchop needed no other encouragement. Releasing a roar that kicked Kaius in the chest, his brother’s claws dug into the earth and muscles rippled as he accelerated in moments.

The sudden impulse rocked Kaius back, forcing him to crouch low and hold onto his leather loop for dear life. Exhilaration surged at the sudden acceleration, a joyful whoop sliding free from his mouth.

They charged across the open ground as he held his sword high. It was a perfect time for them to practice something they had been discussing. Against a foe well within their capabilities, with plenty of support, it was the best opportunity.

Mounted combat.

Utterly uncaring of their challenge, the bramble ball rolled on, thorny vines whipping with independent frenzy as they speared into the earth to drag it forwards. Only one indication told him it had recognised their threat, the monster adjusting its course to intercept them.

Sprays of dirt exploding with every bound, Porkchop’s explosive strength brought them to speeds that left the wind whistling in Kaius’s ears and his stomach lurching.

His blade held ready, Kaius held the spirit in his eye with a focused intensity that bordered on maddened fixation. He could already feel it, envisioning its strange wooden flesh parting before his blade, the sting of his blade’s grip bucking in his hand as he battled against the might of his blow.

“Bring us past it.” he said to his brother. A useless gesture, for one who knew his intentions utterly. More born of habit, than necessity.

Porkchop merely growled, accelerating.

Lashing vines whipped through the air towards them, Kaius ignored the threat and tapped into his Bladeright, stamina fueling his soul-bound blade as orange fire ignited the runes in its fuller from within.

He swung.

A Father’s Gift blurred through the air, its transparent edge fading like smoke on the wind. Finely knapped edges cut through wooden flesh like the vines had been made from silk, warding off the spirits attack with pure offence.

Undeterred by the severed vines that flew free, he bit deep into the meat of the bramble ball’s body. Sharpness enhanced to the extreme, there was little of the biting impact he expected.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

**Ding! Initiate’s Glyphic Bladerite has reached level 3!**

…

**Ding! Initiate’s Glyphic Bladerite has reached level 4!**

Then they were gone, Porkchop’s pace and speed bringing them past the spirit in half a moment.

Kaius whipped his head back, trying to see the damage he had left. Vines writhed, sprouting anew from within the creature’s depths to seal the ragged hole he had left in its body, sticky sap leaking free.

The two guards behind him loosed their projectiles. Clearly enhanced by skills, they screamed through the air with a shrill whistle. Each one punched into the spirit with the force of a hammer blow, gouts of woody plant matter exploding forth.