Chapter 65: Psychic Chain Lightning

Bee’s fingers turned spiderlike and she latched onto the pillar they hid behind and scampered up, turning a vibrant shade of red to match the ceiling.

Will hastily equipped his ring, tomahawk and amulet, while considering the situation he found himself in.

I switched away from the ring of accuracy last night, so the only items I have access to are the wand, the sickle and the lightning fists.

Stormfists are better for direct combat, but as soon as I switch to them I’ll lose access to Stevie and Billy-bob. I need to squeeze as much use out of them as I can before I switch which item is slotted in the Phantom Hand.

His Relics equipped, Will followed suit and climbed the pillar in a heartbeat,

I need more weapons than just the tomahawk. Something I can throw with Phantom Hand.

Will checked his Charge.

34 Charges remaining.

Where’s a good place to get weapons? The bad guys have them, but if I were strong enough to take them away from them, it wouldn’t be an issue in the first place.

…Kitchen.

“Billy-bob. Stevie.”

“Yes?” the spirits asked, emerging from the pillar beside him.

“I want you to scout out how tough those faceless minions are. Billy-bob, you lure one away from the rest and try and take him out with a sucker-punch to the back of the head. I’m going to the kitchen to get some supplies.”

“Yes Master.”

“And Stevie, make a distraction to draw attention away from the kitchen, then make a nuisance of yourself. Lock doors behind bad guys, hide their tools, move furniture around. Go nuts.”

“Yes, Master.” The spirits said, sinking back into the stone.

“Who were you talking to?” Bee whispered, hanging upside down above him.

“Ghost butlers.”

“Oooh, I’d love to have one.”

“They’ve got an attitude,” Will muttered, eyeballing the kitchen entrance, which hadn’t been taken by the invaders yet, since they were still rounding people up near the front of the mansion.

Will peered around the corner and waited.

CRASH!

One of the chandeliers near the entrance collapsed, magical glowing crystals shattering on impact with the marble floor, causing everyone to stare at it for a fraction of a second.

Which was all he needed to make it to the kitchen.

Malleable Space.

33 charges Remaining.

Will jumped off the pillar and through the door to the kitchen, the two spaces so close they might as well have been kissing.

Will dismissed the effect instantly and began sprinting for the kitchen, screeching to a halt at the sight of the bakery’s scarred and withered proprietor wielding a cleaver.

“Ack!” Willl ducked under a swing from the cleaver and pulled his mask up. “It’s me, It’s me!” Will said, pointing to his face.

“William, huh?” The withered baker said, expression hardening. “What’s going on out there?”

“The party is under attack by some mercenaries from the Wyrd famil-“

The antler handle of the cleaver cracked under Jean’s grip.

“How many of them?” she asked, her voice icy.

“Like, a lot.” Will said, leaping past the island in the middle of the kitchen to grab the chef’s knives on the far wall, along with another cleaver.

Will briefly thought of having Stevie transport weapons to the hostages, but that…didn’t seem like it would end well. Having a non-relic weapon was better than having no weapon, but it wouldn’t bridge the gap, that was for sure.

“They’re after me,” Jean said, her face paling, the cleaver in her hand trembling as she began shivering.

“Huh?” Will glanced up at the old woman. “It sounded like they’re after the coffin that’s the centerpiece of the main hall. You weren’t even mentioned. But if it makes you feel any better, me and Bee are gonna take care of them,” Will said as he used dimensional storage on the knives.

32 Charges remaining.

Gotta leave some room for their rings and things.

The only way he would have a chance against the mercs is if he could steal their Relics. If it worked for Mark Wyrd, it could work for these guys.

“No!” Jean said, grabbing Will’s shoulder with bone-crushing force as he tried to leave.

“Ow.”

“You can’t let my girls fight them.” Jean said, her eyes wild as she spun Will around to face her.

“Bee and Ria aren’t actually-“

“You CAN’T let them!”

“Why-“

Will’s question died on the vine as one of the masked minions entered the kitchen, creeping towards them with empty hands, like one might approach a wild animal.

“Alright, you two. Weapons down and make your way to the-“

The slender minion rocked forward for a moment as Billy-bob sucker punched him in the back of the head with everything he had. The minion straightened up and glanced behind him curiously.

“Master, they’re rather tough,” The butler said.

“Noted.”

Will switched the slotted Relic effect from the Wand of the Undead Retainer to Stormfists, and Billy-bob vanished.

Every physical stat went up by 7. The entire world slowed down, and the burden of air resistance seemed to evaporate.

Will leapt over the island, watching the enemy glance back towards him and freeze for that crucial fraction of a second as he brought the Tomahawk of the Serpent down on his neck.

THUNK!

Thunk?

Will’s eyes widened as he took in the fact that he’d buried the tomahawk all of perhaps a hair’s breadth into the minion’s neck.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Oh, crap. Forget rather tough, that’s ridiculous.

Will kicked away a fraction of a second before the minion’s hand closed down around the space where his wrist had been.

Will scanned the minion’s body for a Relic that could account for his near-immunity to damage. Even as Will did so, the paper-cut sealed itself, healing nearly instantly.

Where’s your gimmick?

While the small figure was wearing full-body leather concealing all their skin, they didn’t have any tell-tale lumps around any of their fingers, no necklaces, no weapons, no boots, and no ambient aura from the presence of a Relic.

These guys are naked!? That can’t be right. They have to be wearing some sort of kit.

Will kicked back and clambered over the island, barely keeping out of reach of the minion who followed him with implacable determination.

Pots and pans scattered everywhere, making an unholy racket as the minion jumped over the island after him, and the two played a quick game of keep-away.

Will was winning, obviously, as he was faster, and the pots and pans conspired to slip under his opponent while Will had no such problem.

Will was able to get three more hits in as his opponent slipped across the floor, draining his stats by 9% for the next few seconds.

That should be enough to make a difference.

Will wound up for the coup-de-grace and hit the minion in the back of the neck with the blade of the tomahawk. It should’ve severed his opponent’s spine, but Will got no more than a paper-cut.

Will danced back out of range of a retaliatory strike, but he wasn’t expecting another minion to burst out of the back of the one he was fighting, grabbing hold of his arms with unnatural strength.

“AIIII!” a young man’s face, covered in scars, screamed at him with inhuman fury as arms began drawing him in, more and more hands latching on to his body, rendering him immobile with inhuman strength.

I’m about to die. Will thought, strangely calm under the sheer terror.

Unstoppable hands clasped around his neck…

And were severed by a cleaver, held by the withered crone.

“The real one isn’t even here, Will!” Jean shouted, kicking the Tangled away from him as it turned to face her, sending it hallway through the far wall.