Chapter 189: Chasing a Bird

William Oh once told a miniboss to die.

It asked ‘how dead?’

-Jason Salazar

Walten Reed didn’t hold his breath as they crept closer and closer, instead inhaling and exhaling as evenly and quietly as possible. The insects surrounding the camp could smell it, of course, but it was better than making an audible gasp as his air ran out.

The insects might be able to perceive them, but their little minds were easily controlled by their CC specialist, clamping down on any kind of response from the caravan’s first line of defense.

They crept single-file behind their best Scout, Orev, as he weaved a careful path through the line of traps.

‘Godsdamnit.’ Orev signed in frustration. If there were two things that sign language had been invented for, it was quick, clear communication, and to allow Climbers to curse when they couldn’t speak.

‘Stupid kobold trap everywhere,’ Orev signed, carefully tiptoeing forward. ‘Wound in my ass. Right in the ass. Bitch-ass kobold shit trouble.’

The sign language was not meant to do more than convey simple commands and none of the curse words were trained in Climbing schools, only passed from Climber to Climber, so the language itself was simplistic and disjointed.

Walten got the point, though.

‘Turn back, find another way.’ Orev signed before eventually finding a way through only he was able to cross, then teleporting the others through.

This continued until they got within a quarter-mile of their target, where the traps ceased to be a problem.

It made sense: In a caravan of over a hundred, people were going to wander off at night, and lethal defenses couldn’t be set that close to the camp or they would surely eviscerate a couple in a late-night tryst far sooner than they would catch an ambush.

Once they were inside the ‘safe zone’, they left their CC behind to keep the insects from raising the alarm and proceeded with just the assault team, creeping forward with-

Crack!

The entire team froze as Argus stepped on a fallen twig. Orev turned silently towards the oversized man with wide eyes, but his gaze didn’t land on the tank, instead it fell on the two other scouts flanking him.

‘you keep Tank quiet! No do job why here!?’ Orev demanded, adding emphasis with a shaking fist.

Argus gave a sheepish shrug, and the two scouts signed an apology before moving in tighter around Argus, using their pathfinding Abilities to make the Tank as quiet as they were.

They waited for a breathless minute, but no alarm was raised. They were in the clear.

Walten’s heart began to stir in his chest as he saw the lights of the caravan spilling over the city walls. The nervous tension that made all discomfort fade away flooded him as his body focused on only one thing:

Killing William Oh.

Lord Caddock got me to level 50, I’ve got an Advanced Class and the best equipment we could bring to bear. I’m stronger than I ever thought I would be in my life, and William Oh is a level 45 scout.

He’s given us a Stronghold, his trust, and a Quest that will reward us handsomely upon completion.

…I can do this.

Walten silently reviewed his new Primary Ability

Snuff Out ****

Active: Variable Charge

Choose one target within range. Surreptitiously Deals a huge amount of damage to the target’s vital organs. Automatically consumes extra charge until the damage is high enough to kill the target instantly. Scales with Acuity

Damage bypasses a certain amount of Resistance and armor, Scaling with Acuity.

The ‘surreptitiously’, ‘bypasses resistance’ and ‘huge’ amount of damage had been the three upgrades he’d applied. Between those three upgrades, he could kill just about anything at the drop of a hat without anyone being the wiser.

His other two primaries had been maxed out a long time ago, so it was such a blessing that his Lord had taken him to the 10^th Floor and given him rare sacrifices, allowing him to choose something as devastating as Snuff Out when he Advanced.

Walten’s new kit was primarily tailored around his new Primary, raising the damage of his first Ability in a fight, Acuity, Focus, and flat boosts to Curse attacks, along with the Ability to disengage from a fight at will, allowing him to reset his ‘first strike’ gear.

They came up to a large wall, the last barrier before they arrived at the caravan.

One of their scouts went to climb the wall, and Orev shook his head, offering his hands.

With practiced ease, they took his hand, and found themselves on the other side of the wall in the blink of an eye, illusionary raven feathers fading around them as they drifted to the ground.

They were tucked against the wall of the city in the shadow of a massive wagon, parked in an area of Bakton Keep left partially wooded. Orev scanned the surroundings before leading them to a slightly raised hill, where they could see the majority of the caravan at once.

Sooner or later, William Oh would cross Walten’s field of view, and that would be the moment he died.

They drew their camouflage suits over them, the scouts worked their magic, and became a part of the scenery.

It took a little over an hour. The alarm was never raised, but they knew it was only a matter of time. The moment Alicia Zodiac glanced their direction they would be in deep shit.

If that did happen, the orders were to snuff out Will’s eyes and ears, targeting Loth the Luminary and Alicia Zodiac, making another ambush far more likely to succeed.

Walten spotted Loth the Luminary and mentally noted her location in case they had to make a break for it.

The blue-eyed archer who could see through terrain was seemingly asleep or away from the caravan enjoying the keep’s dubious night-life.

Either way, the situation couldn’t get more ideal.

And that’s when it happened.

A…man? with a bucket-shaped helmet over his head and the most mismatched set of kit that Walten had ever seen came tottering out of one of the tents and walked up to Loth, spreading his arms.

“That one.” Orev signed.

“How?” Walten signed back. The damn figure was wearing so much bulky gear he couldn’t even tell it was a man for sure.

Orev motioned to his left hand.

Walten focused on the figure’s left hand, and indeed, it was a pale, thin example of a hand. As if it had just finished regrowing, and was now starting to build the muscle and fat reserves that made a hand look normal.

Ah.

Without hesitation, Walten triggered his Ability.

Snuff Out.

122->0 charges remaining

Wait, ZERO-

SQUELCH!

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Walten and the other scouts shot to their feet as Argus exploded in a spray of gore, the damage link between them spelling the man’s demise.

Walten glanced over at Orev for guidance, and all that remained of the high-level Scout was an explosion of feathers.

Wait, wha-

Three heartbeats later, the sound of sprinting feet on dirt came from the direction of the camp and Walten spotted William Oh charging, his ridiculous kit seeming much less silly as it came barreling towards them.

“RUN!” Marble, their Nuker shouted, holding one hand towards the wall, and the other towards the camp.

Walten flinched as the keep’s exterior wall exploded outward, while a lightning bolt came down from the heavens and impacted against Loth the Luminary.

The kobold must’ve had a damage link in place, because the searing bolt of lightning accomplished nothing except fill the air with the buzz of angry insects moving at unnatural speeds.

Walten ran.

William Oh, on the other side of the caravan, ran even faster, despite everything.

***William Oh***

I hate this, I hate this, I hate this…Will thought as he charged blindly forward, the massive amount of armor and extra inch of height wildly throwing off his balance.

Of course there would be an adjustment period. He nearly tripped the moment he started sprinting because his stride was wider than he expected.

Nothing about this build was precise and magical the way Will liked. It was brutal and messy and lumbering.

He was just lumbering at roughly twice the speed a normal lumber-er would, the ground rippling under his feet to keep him going, which meant he was flying through the startled caravan at blinding speed.

Completely blind, observing himself from above and behind like a toy soldier on a gameboard.

Most of the assassins were sprinting away from him towards a hole their Nuker had blown in the wall. One of the bigger ones drew a sword and turned toward Will, winding up a strike.

The Nuker must be an Advanced Class at least, Will thought as he ran forward, not bothering with tactics.

I suppose running forward at full speed is a tactic.

The sword glowed with Charge and the swordsman whipped it forward at Will, feigning a cut that turned into a stab aimed at a chink in Will’s armor near the femoral artery.

The man’s expectations were all based on the idea that Will would slow down to engage the swordsman, allowing him to save his friends by buying them time.

Will accepted the stab to the leg and slammed into his opponent at full speed, treating his body as a weapon.

The swordsman flew backwards in a crumpled heap as he suffered the damage of their collision twice along with a stab to the inner thigh.

Will kept running, stumbling as his gait changed again.

Next one. Will’s over-the shoulder gaze locked on a frizzy-haired assassin looking at Will over his shoulder, his eyes bulging and bloodshot.

“Wai-“