52 – Delusion

It felt like time had crawled to a stop as Alexandra’s gaze was enthralled by the red flower shining deep inside the cluster of roots that had swallowed Lanterne. Another beast blessed by the Yshant.

Unless…

She squinted. That beast, she was pretty sure, was a Perub.

Could it be an illusion?

She could tell from her first encounter with a Perub that they drew upon her memories to create their illusions. This time, she’d seen through it, but who could say if she was really out of the monster’s spell.

Alexandra gritted her teeth. That had to be it. This couldn’t be real. A regular Perub was only supposed to be at the Iron rank. Maybe an old one could reach Bronze, but even with the Yshant’s blessing…

Her quest!

It wasn’t completed. Which meant that she hadn’t actually reached Lanterne.

She sighed in relief.

Then she ran. She didn’t have time to get bogged down with a random Perub. Not without knowing what had happened to her friends.

The beast tried to stop her, moving its roots to close off her escape path. Alexandra didn’t flinch, the combination of Combat Sense, Sure Footing, and Running making it so not a single root could reach her.

Even a Bronze rank Perub couldn’t stretch its illusion forever. Soon, she left the roots’ range, and stepped onto the path leading out of Lanterne. The packed earth and gravel continued south through the plains. She kept running.

As long as the path was still there, the illusion wasn’t gone.

But the path wasn’t disappearing.

She ran until the roots were a dark smear behind her. The plains rolled on either side, dry grass and pastel flowers bending in the wind.

That was the problem.

She fixed her eyes on the packed earth ahead and kept her breathing even. The Perub was still in it. Had to be.

The figure appeared at the crest of a low rise.

Alexandra slowed. She knew a Perub’s illusion could deal real damage.

He was standing in the middle of the path with an axe in his hands. His face contorted in rage and hatred. Those eyes…

Just as she remembered him.

John.

She stopped.

For three seconds she just looked at him. Then she almost laughed. Of course. Of course the Perub had found that.

She started walking again, straight toward him.

He didn’t move as she closed the distance. His eyes tracked her. His chest heaving up and down.

“You did this,” he said.

She didn’t answer. Raised her sickle. There was no point in talking with a fake.

John’s face contorted further. “I fuckin’ knew it. It’s all you.” He raised his axe, stepped forward. “Die! For Lanterne!”

Combat Sense showed her where to stand to avoid the strike. His axe dove into the dirt. John was a Silver, like most adults. But he wasn’t a fighter, and this wasn’t even the real him. Just a projection created from her memories.

She lunged, aiming to hook the tip of her sickle on his shoulder. He ducked. Her blade caught nothing.

Alexandra stepped back. John raised his axe again. He was already panting.

Stupid plant, wasting energy trying to make him look real.

He came at her again before she’d reset her footing. She got her sickle up in time to deflect the axe but not redirect it. The force drove her arm back into her own chest and she stumbled.

He was faster than she’d built him in her head. The Perub was working from more than surface memory.

John pressed forward. No technique. Just weight and momentum, axe swinging in wide arcs that ate up the space between them.

Alexandra kept retreating, reading the pattern. She waited for the wind-up and cut inside it. Her sickle raked across his forearm. She flinched. He bled, but grabbed her wrist.

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The grip was iron and she knew immediately she wasn’t breaking it clean. She dropped her weight instead, twisted down and under, pulled her wrist toward his thumb. It cost her the sickle, it spun out into the grass, but she came free.

She retreated fast, putting five meters between.

John turned to face her. He looked at the scratch on his forearm. Then at her.

“I should have done this sooner,” he said, his voice unsteady.

She didn’t answer.

“Then they’d still be alive. You monster.” He moved. Same destination: the sickle. Just as she was bending down to grab it, he swung his axe down, forcing her to jump to the side to avoid losing her hand.

She rolled in the flowers, and pushed herself up. Just in time, John was already closing in with another strike.

Too fast.

She unstrapped her own axe from her belt, and swung it. The two weapons collided mid air, blade against blade. Both she and John were sent recoiling, but she took the worst of it.

The illusion had better attributes than her. Not a surprise if the Perub was indeed Bronze. It was also heavier, and faster. Running would be hard. She frowned, racking her brain for a solution.

She swung again. John caught it on the haft of his axe and shoved. She absorbed the redirect badly, stumbling sideways. The axe felt wrong in her hand. No skill.

She tried anyway.

Three exchanges, and each one left her worse off. She couldn’t find the angles she was used to. Her strikes were readable, and the Perub was doing just that.

She broke off, circling. Her breathing had gone ragged without her noticing. The plains offered nothing. Flat ground, no cover, the path cutting straight south behind her.