Book 2, Chapter 5

As the desert's deceptive calm shattered under the sudden onslaught of the Fortress Pincers, Vince's authoritative voice cut through the chaos with the precision of a well-aimed bullet, "Form a line! Protect the diggers and the camels!" His gaze, sharp as the blades of the creatures they faced, flicked momentarily to the young girl they had rescued, "Get back. You're useless here!" There was an urgency and a slight edge of panic in his tone. In the next instant, his attention snapped back to his brother.

"John! Test them!"

Then, he unholstered his guns, trying to assess how many of the monsters were circling around them.

Vince knew all too well the threat these metallic behemoths posed. Their strategy was one of slow, inexorable encirclement, trapping their prey with no avenue for escape. Their massive forms and nearly impenetrable armor rendered them nigh invulnerable, a slow-moving tide of steel and death that respected neither bravery nor bluster.

With a grim determination, Vince aimed his guns, the familiar weight of them in his hands a small comfort. The air was filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder as he fired in rapid succession, targeting the creatures' only weak spot—their eyes. Three of the behemoths fell, their massive bodies thudding against the sun-baked sand, sending clouds of dust into the air. Yet, for every eye struck, more shots ricocheted harmlessly off the chitinous armor, sparks flying in brief, futile defiance against the Pincers' natural defense.

Beside him, Hassan unsheathed and brandished a sword aflame with magical fire, his strokes bold but increasingly desperate against the Pincers' attacks. His blade, though fierce, found little purchase on their metallic carapaces. Each attempt to breach their armor was an exercise in futility, the magical flames licking harmlessly against surfaces designed by nature to withstand far greater assaults. Vince watched, frustration mounting, as Hassan's sword stuck against a plate, the Pincer seemingly unfazed by the fiery onslaught.

"Hassan, get back! They're your natural counter!"

The sight of Hassan's blade getting momentarily stuck in the creature's armor, unable to penetrate or cause significant damage, made his skin crawl.

Vince's mind raced, disbelief mingling with a growing sense of concern. Fortress Pincers in this part of Amunara were unheard of; their presence was an anomaly that spelled potential disaster for them all. But doubts and questions had to wait—survival was paramount. The realization that they were facing an unprecedented threat in an already perilous land weighed heavily on him, a burden that threatened to eclipse even the fierce determination that had always driven him.

John, their strongest Rogue, danced around the edges of the melee. He dismantled a leg of one Pincer with precise, calculated strikes, dodging its retaliatory stinger strike with a grace that belied the danger of his maneuver. But even striking in-between the metallic plates didn't seem to do enough damage. And so, Vince decided to recall him.

"John, get out of there! Fall back to the caravan!" he shouted, his voice laced with both command and concern. John complied, retreating as the Pincers, slow but unrelenting, advanced.

As Vince prepared to unleash his arsenal of skills against the looming threat, a surge of dark energy split the air, heralding an unexpected intervention.

A Pincer's head soared in the sky against the vivid blue, followed by a streak of green blood. The head, severed from its body, was followed by Lily's crystalline laughter, a sound that seemed incongruous with the violence of her actions.

Soon, the entire caravan saw the blonde girl rocket in the air, somersaulting and landing on another monster.

She moved with lethal grace; her arms extended into blades of shadow that cut through the Pincers as if they were mere obstacles in a dance, her movements a blur of speed and precision. Vince watched, incredulous and momentarily forgetting his intent to unleash his own skills, as she leaped from one beast to the next, her dark blades finding their marks with deadly accuracy.

Vince's admonition died on his lips as he witnessed her next feat.

A Pincer lunged, its claw aimed to crush her mid-leap. But with a defiant cry, Lily unleashed a shockwave from her fist, and the claw shook away from her trajectory. Landing atop the creature, she plunged her blades into its head, her squatted stance triumphant and majestic. Seeing the tall, thin girl destroy another behemoth stunned the mercenaries into silence. They could only watch as Lily single-handedly dominated the tide of the battle for the moment.

Then she shouted.

"Who's useless?" Lily taunted Vince, her voice carrying over the din of battle.

...

As the desert horizon blurred under the relentless assault of the Fortress Pincers, Lily's heart raced with a mixture of exhilaration and anticipation.

This is what I was craving as a child; she smiled while green blood kept splatting on her. Freedom and fighting.

And so, another thought, not less crazy than anything she had told herself in the last four years, came to her.

I really need to get myself a white fur coat.

Then, amidst the chaos, her voice rose, clear and commanding, "Get moving! I'll open a path!" With those words, she propelled herself deeper into the fray.

Landing with precision on the carapace of another towering Pincer, Lily felt the rush of battle coursing through her veins. Reality’s Whisper flashed with a warning, and she dodged the stinger of the monster, seeing it come from behind. It was almost laughable how slow these monsters were.

Reality’s Whisper allowed her to dance between the clutches of death with an ease that belied the gravity of her situation. These stingers moved with a lethargy that made evasion a child's play. It was a dance she had mastered in the darkness against the Diseased Venomshade Stalkers, far more agile than these metallic giants.

Taking a moment to center herself, Lily gazed upon the horizon, now teeming with the shimmering forms of countless Fortress Pincers. But the smile tugging at her lips, colored with a touch of madness, didn't relent.

She knew the limits of her body and the boundless depths of her Mana. The confrontation with the Diseased Venomshade Stalkers had honed her instincts, sharpening them to a fine edge. Yet, she harbored a sliver of doubt—a cautious voice reminding her of the finite nature of her reserves. The Rare Feat that marked her as both savior and scourge to the scorpions of this world flashed in her mind’s eye:

[Rare Feat – You Make My Skin Crawl. You killed 10,000 scorpion creatures! Congratulations on endangering an entire species! You gain a permanent +100 to All Attributes while fighting scorpions! However, you also attract their species' rage!]

The revelation had been a surprise, an unexpected boon that carried with it the weight of responsibility and consequence. As she stood amidst her enemies, she felt the surge of those bonus Attributes, a wave of power that set her blood aflame.

It was time to get serious.

The air around Lily thickened, charged with the ominous energy of her Death Magic. Her blades, now an extension of her will, darkened—a sinister transformation. She did not seek mortal wounds on the Fortress Pincers anymore, for precision was a luxury afforded to those with time. Instead, she aimed for something she had learned while practicing in the entombed temple.

As her blade made contact, the metal of the Pincer's carapace corroded at the touch of her hyper-corrosive magic, the destruction spreading like a plague to the monster's vitals. Within moments, the Pincer collapsed, its life extinguished by a force that defied the natural order.

"In His Glow," she whispered hauntingly to the fallen and, hopefully, to a watching God of Light and His misguided followers.

In the sweltering heat of the Amunara desert, the battle against the Fortress Pincers grew with the ferocity of a sandstorm.

As she engaged the metallic monsters, Lily couldn't help but compare them to the Diseased Venomshade Stalkers she had faced in the depths of the temple. These creatures, despite their imposing physicality, seemed almost fragile under the onslaught of her dark blades. It was as if their formidable exteriors hid a vulnerability that only her unique blend of Death Magic and Mana Shaping could exploit. A realization dawned on her – the Fortress Pincers, for all their armor and aggression, possessed much less magical defense than the Stalkers of the deep. They were, in essence, easier prey for her dark harvest.

Internally, Lily acknowledged the synergy between her abilities that made this possible. The Double-Perk, Annihilation Aspect, a convergence of her mastery over Death Magic and the Lesser Mandala of the Black Rain, unleashed waves of destruction that resonated with each strike, amplifying the deadliness of her attacks. Meanwhile, the Extension of The Self, a Perk earned through her relentless pursuit of Mana Shaping to the Master Stage, allowed her constructs to become conduits for her skills, albeit at a higher Mana cost than her limbs.

As she cut down one Pincer after another, Lily activated Necrotic Restoration, drawing upon the blood and life force of her foes to replenish her stamina. Her mastery stopped at the Blood Form, which kept making her wonder about the true depths of the skill. She still had the Bone Form and the Soul Form to go through...

Anyway, as she turned each fallen enemy into a source of Stamina, allowing her to maintain the intensity of her assault without pause, she started assessing the conditions of the caravan. Vince and Hassan were keeping the monsters at bay, but this wasn't working out. Too many Fortress Pincers kept emerging from the golden sands.

The battle raged on, minutes stretching into an eternity of sand, steel, and shadows. Vince, from his position at the rear, provided occasional cover for her, killing Pincers that had managed to surround her from all sides.

But as Lily felled another of the monstrous Pincers, her gaze lifted to the horizon again, where the true scale of their predicament became horrifyingly clear. From every direction, hundreds of Fortress Pincers emerged, their forms blotting out the sand with their numbers – a relentless tide of death that sought to overwhelm them through sheer force.

Lily, witnessing the inexorable advance of the Pincer horde, felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach. "This is not working! There are too many!" she shouted to Vince, her voice carrying the weight of their dire situation.

...

The desert's wrath unfurled around Lily as she stood amidst the sea of encroaching Fortress Pincers, their metallic forms glinting under the relentless sun.

The heat wrapped around her like a second skin, sand clinging to her sweat-dampened arms, each grain a tiny reminder of the arid battlefield she now commanded. Her breathing, heavy yet controlled, matched the rhythm of her heart—each beat a drum of war against the steel tide before her.

Her warning echoed in through everyone's mind, a distant thunder amidst the storm of battle.

It was then, amidst the chaos, that clarity struck—these creatures were not just attacking; they were targeting her specifically, their collective anger palpable in the air.

"You go ahead; they're coming after me!" Lily shouted over her shoulder, her voice carrying the weight of her realization. With a resolve as unyielding as the creatures that sought her end, she darted sideways, away from the caravan. The Pincers that strayed too close fell under her wrath, her dark blades singing a song of death, a melody punctuated by the thud of their colossal bodies hitting the ground.

But as the battle waged on, the strain on her Mana became evident – a creeping exhaustion that threatened to undermine her efforts. Casting through the Mana-shaped constructs was taking a big toll on her.

She could feel the reservoirs depleting way too fast for her to keep running the same game.

Realizing the futility of her initial approach, Lily shifted tactics. She ceased the use of her offensive skills and [Wraithform], conserving the Mana that remained. Instead, she embraced the essence of Reality's Whisper, allowing it to guide her through the minefield of claws and stingers. The Pincers, for all their size and strength, were cumbersome, their attacks predictable to the attuned senses of the warrior who stood before them.

But luck and skill could only carry her so far. The first claw that caught her off guard, barely a glancing blow, sent her tumbling across the sand, a trail of pain etched in her wake. The impact was a jarring reminder of the physicality of her foes, each strike a potential end. Yet, she rose. Another Fortress Pincer tried stomping on her and almost managed to squish her into a pink paste.

As the injuries mounted, a calculated risk beckoned. Lily summoned her skills again. Death Touch and Inferior Mandala of the Black Rain, together with Necrotic Restoration, became her salvation. Her wounds closed fast each time she struck a monster, but her reserves of Mana were quickly depleting. She drank several of the Mana potions she had left in her inventory, but they were too weak for someone with as many Attributes as her: that was the drawback of having so many at her level. Her skills were as powerful as they had become costly for even high-quality potions to put a dent in her reserves. That was one of the problems she would have to eventually figure out.

The battle raged on, a blur of motion and magic. The Pincers, relentless in their assault, found themselves confounded by her agility, their massive forms a hindrance to the swift justice she meted out. But they also brought her farther and farther from the caravan.

...

The caravan lumbered away, gaining distance with each passing moment.

“Vince!” John’s voice sliced through the cacophony of clashing metal and monstrous roars, laced with a palpable panic. “She’s going to die! There are too many of them!”

Vince’s eyes, narrowed in focus, flicked toward Lily. He could only see her through the maze of monsters thanks to his Sniper's Eye skill. Her form, a whirlwind of dark energy and lethal grace, stood defiant against the encroaching tide of chitinous behemoths. But even as she danced her deadly dance, the number of adversaries swelled, poised to overwhelm her.

“We can’t go back, John! There’s too many of them!” Vince shouted, even as his gaze betrayed the torment of the decision. The distance between the monsters and the caravan kept growing.

“Vince, she’s getting hit!” John’s scream tore through Vince’s resolve, a desperate plea that saw his younger brother abandoning safety in a reckless dash toward the melee. His figure, determined and foolhardy, blurred against the backdrop of shifting sands and towering monsters.

“John, wait! You're going to get killed!” Vince’s call, a mixture of anger and fear, went unheeded. His hands tightened around his guns, the metal almost singing his skin from all the rounds he had fired.

Around them, the caravan’s occupants cast fleeting glances back, their faces etched with relief and guilt, torn between the urge to flee and the pull of camaraderie.

Vince’s heart hammered against his ribcage; each beat a deafening drum that matched the rhythm of the impending doom. John’s figure, now nearly swallowed by the mass of Pincers, made him hesitate.

Then, he swore and left his camel behind.

...

Lily's breath came in ragged gasps, her once unyielding energy now a flickering flame threatened by the overwhelming exhaustion. The desert around her was a nightmare made real, teeming with the metallic glint of Fortress Pincers that seemed to multiply with every moment. The sense of isolation was palpable.

For a moment, Lily had a flash in front of her eyes, a hallucination. She was back with Cardinal Atticus in the Dungeons of the Papal Estate, trying to save the tortured, innocent people. She dodged a stinger coming at her head by millimeters as she stumbled forward, her Mana almost completely dried up, mirroring the barren wasteland she fought to survive in.

She had trouble breathing now. And fragments of visions assaulted her mercilessly.

But then, the scene shifted, and she was standing before the pyre again, the flames reaching high into the night sky as the [Librarian] was consumed by the fire. His eyes, filled with resignation and a plea for understanding, burned into hers. The stench of burning flesh filled her nostrils, a grotesque reminder of the barbarity sanctioned in the name of faith. The [Cardinal] beheading him... The crowd's cheers rang in her ears, a chilling testament to the darkness that dwelled within the hearts of men.

Another stinger barely missed her, snapping Lily back to the present. Her mind, however, was still trapped in the loop of her darkest moments. She saw the look of betrayal on Elysium's face when she had to end their adventures, the pain of parting from the only friend who had stood by her throughout her tumultuous journey. The loneliness that followed, a cold, suffocating blanket, seemed to choke her even now amidst the desert heat.

As her demons sneaked up on her, the realization that her strength was waning sent a ripple of panic through her veins. She knew she couldn't sustain this battle any longer. With the caravan safely away, her only option was to retreat, to use every ounce of cunning and agility she possessed to escape the steel jaws of death that snapped at her heels.

Summoning the remnants of her strength, Lily activated [Wraithform], her body becoming a shadow among shadows. Paired with Reality's Whisper, she moved with ethereal grace, dodging the monstrous ballet of claws and stingers that sought to end her dance. But with every monster she couldn't evade, more Mana was taken from her. And for each monster she escaped from, more seemed to emerge from the sands – a seemingly endless horde that blurred her vision and clouded her mind with despair.

Her heart hammered in her throat. But even as she weaved through the onslaught, desperation clawing at her throat, a stinger found its mark, piercing her stomach with a brutality that left her breathless. She stumbled as the giant metallic needle retreated after she slashed at it with her skills, pain radiating through her body like wildfire, her hands fumbling for the health potion in her ring. The liquid burned down her throat, a fleeting relief overshadowed by the nauseous swirl of her depleted Mana.

Lily drank a Mana potion next, hoping for a miracle. Her movements grew sluggish, disjointed – she became a mere puppet with its strings cut one by one. Another hit, a claw this time, sent her spinning into the air, the world tilting dangerously around her. It was then, amidst the haze of pain and exhaustion, that she felt an unexpected presence at her side.

"Come on! Let's go!" The voice cut through the fog in her mind, urgent and familiar. She recognized him— it was John, the rogue who had been a fleeting part of her past and now, a sudden anchor in the present chaos. She watched, dazed, as he navigated the deadly landscape and held her waist as they ran senselessly.

The situation grew increasingly dire, with the monsters seemingly threatening to engulf them both, when suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of countless explosions.

"Give her to me!" Another voice commanded; one she had learned to associate with grudging respect if not fondness. Vince appeared amidst the turmoil and took Lily into his arms as they ran from the shrapnel flying about from his previous attack.

"Why are you here?" she managed, her voice a weak whisper.

"I'm not going to live down a woman saving my life," he grunted as they ran for their lives.

His words were barely out of his mouth before darkness claimed her.