Touch Of Fate 77 The Point Of No Return

The warrior lifted the pressure on his hammer, momentarily throwing the beastman off balance, before driving an armored knee into Brenden's side, sending him sprawling.

Sera pulled Tal out of the way of the fight. The elf was acting unusual, almost as if she couldn't see what was going on.

As Nash raised his hammer again, this time seeking to bring it down on Brenden, he was forced to take a step back to avoid Mike's sword, which had been hurled in a desperate attempt to stop him.

Throwing himself forward to cover the last few meters between them, Mike launched into a flying kick, which the Chosen neatly avoided by once again stepping back. Nevertheless, he had achieved his goal of forcing the warrior away from his vulnerable companions.

Nash growled in thwarted rage, "Whelp, I will teach a new meaning of the word pain." He whipped his hammer in a series of devastating attacks.

Unarmed, Mike could only defend himself until he could either find or make an opening. Nash wasn't as fast or strong as Keld, but his motions were controlled, methodical. It was proving difficult to hold his ground in the face of such skill.

Mike was beginning to get desperate, they didn't have time to deal with a battle of attrition. Thankfully, something completely unexpected happened, which gave him the opening he needed.

"AHHH! Why does this keep happening to me?!"

A female cat beastman dressed in grey leathers came sprinting into the room, blowing right past the two combatants. A giant, fire-red wasp followed swiftly after her, buzzing angrily in the process. Mike couldn't quite remember, but something about the woman seemed familiar.

All five of them, including Brenden, who had struggled into a sitting position, turned to watch as the woman led the insect on a merry chase through the stalagmites.

Recovering quickly, Mike used this opportunity to throw himself into a diving roll, grabbing his sword in the process.

Rather than once again engaging in battle, Nash chose to step back once more, and surprisingly lowered his war hammer. The warrior left no openings, but it was clear that he had something else in mind.

The Chosen pulled a simple wooden box bound with iron chains from a leather bag that had been strapped to his back. As he did so, it seemed that the hum of power in the room momentarily diminished. At the edges of his hearing, Mike thought he detected a rhythmic beating, like the sound of a heartbeat.

The light, already weaker now that the portals were closed, faded briefly, shrouding the cavern in darkness. A feeling of dread pervaded the room, seemingly stemming from the box. As Nash broke the chain, cracking it easily with his hands, the sensation intensified.

Nash spoke in reverent tones, briefly losing his focus, "Behold, mortals! The Heart of Khor! Kneel before its might!"

A wash of evil energy burst from the box, bathing the surrounding area in a harsh, reddish-black light. Mike felt his strength drain rapidly. Whatever was coming needed to be stopped soon.

Mike struck at the box, moving faster than he ever had before. His blade pa.s.sed cleanly through the box, cutting it in half, and severing a portion of Nash's hand in the process. A glob of reddish gore mingled with the black liquid that made up the interior of the Chosen's armor.

There was a sudden flash of dark red light.

Nash cried out in horror. "No! What have you done, you fool?!" He frantically tried to claw the effected gauntlet off with his free hand, but it was evidently too late.

Red, snaking lines of power moved up the Chosen's arm, cracking the armor they pa.s.sed through. Nash began to spasm, and unleashed a primordial howl of pain and anguish, as if his very essence was being torn asunder.

When the lines finally reached his head, the scream mercifully ended, and his jerking motions ceased. Slowly, the Chosen rose from the crouching position he'd a.s.sumed in his agony. It was clear that he had been fundamentally changed.

His armor had become a jigsaw of broken pieces, seemingly held together by glowing streams of red light that pulsed in time with some unheard heartbeat. Two blood colored embers stared out from the visor of Nash's helmet.

It raised one of its gauntleted hands, as if examining it. The creature that once was the Chosen spoke in a deep guttural voice using a language that no one save Mike understood.

"Kor o losh kaveel." (What a poor excuse for a body.) "Miak teln fe bol." (It can barely hold a fraction of my soul.)

The creature scanned the cavern, as if noticing its surroundings for the first time. When its gaze turned to Mike, he felt a creeping dread fill his very being. This thing was dangerous.

It seemed to address Mike, "Ilytio mish kavint qio bontame." (Your body is acceptable. Yield it to me.)

The adventurer was stunned momentarily. He knew it was neither the time nor place, but he couldn't help but feel that he'd just been propositioned by some ancient evil. He shook his head in refusal, trying to clear the idea of armor burn out of his mind.

"Utish falko nonti." (It was not a request.)

Mike felt the full weight of the creature's will press against his own, driving him to his knees. The pressure was nearly unbearable, and only his newly enhanced Willpower kept him from breaking entirely.

The thing inhabiting the Chosen's body stepped forwards and reached a hand out towards Mike, increasing the mental pressure. "Kavint" (Yield)

Suddenly, the feeling was gone, and in its place was a soothing calm. The sensation was familiar, and Mike recalled that moment back in the dungeon when he had touched something unfathomable. Once again free to move, he whipped his sword in a horizontal slash.

Without any real effort, the demon thing caught the blade in one hand. "Jok lorki." (Then die.)

The armored creature grabbed Mike by an arm and hurled him, causing him to crash through multiple stalact.i.tes before finally impacting against the cavern wall. The thing causally walked over to Nash's discarded war hammer, and, not sparing a glance for the other adventurers, picked the weapon up. It blurred into motion heading towards the youth's landing site.

Pulling himself out of the crater that he'd made, Mike a.n.a.lyzed the situation. The calming sensation was still in effect, and it aided him in quickly comprehending his situation.

[This seems like a form of enhancement magic. Perhaps a water version that improves Willpower or another mental attribute.]

He saw the red glow of his opponent drawing closer as he got to his feet.

[I know I vowed to be less reliant on it, but now would be a great time for a Limit Break, System.]

A System message popped up almost immediately. [Limit Break currently on cooldown. Time remaining: 67 days.]

[I guess I pushed it a bit too much last time. I wonder how it determines cooldown times?]

Setting aside the question for a later time, he evaded the initial strike from the war hammer. Quickly pumping some of his remaining mana into his limbs to enhance his strength through Fire Magic, he launched his counter attack.

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Sera watched nervously as Mike engaged in a furious exchange of blows with the possessed Chosen. He was wrapped in the orange glow of his enhancement magic, but his eyes shone blue. Whatever the origin of this new ability, it was evidently allowing him to fight with the thing on even terms.

However, she had more important things to worry about. A point of utter darkness had started forming in the s.p.a.ce above the altar. The Cabal's ritual was nearing completion despite everything they had done so far.

Sera began running. If she pushed herself, she thought she could make it in time.

However, she was only halfway there when speck of black had enlarged to several meters across. There was a kind of glossy film or veil across void, which it seemed was some kind of portal. The thin layer began to bulge, as if under some pressure from behind it.

As she watched, the darkness clad arm from her vision strained against the veil. She needed to move faster if she wanted to prevent the future she had foreseen.

An angry buzzing approached from her right warned her of the approaching danger. She dropped to the floor as the giant wasp blew past her, stinger stabbing the s.p.a.ce she had occupied.

"REALLY?! Now?!" She couldn't help but exclaim in frustration.

Scrabbling for her dagger, she was able to notice with a horrible fascination that the stinger was dripping a clear liquid that burst into flame shortly after coming in contact with the air. The insect whirled on her, aiming for another pa.s.s.

Sera stood in a rush, grasping the dagger in both hands. The fate of the world rested in her hands, and she would not fail. As the wasp charged her again, she threw herself forward, stabbing at it.

The dagger pierced the wasp's head, punching through its carapace, right between the eyes. It collapsed into a heap, twitching a few times before laying still.

Sera felt a surge of victory, but quickly doubled over in pain. Looking down, she saw a line drawn along her right side. Evidently, she had been grazed by the stinger.

With growing horror, she watched as the injury burst into flame. She furiously beat at the fire with her hands, trying to put it out. After a few moments it died down and ceased, leaving extensive burns on both her side and hands.

Fortunately for her, she'd only been exposed to a small amount of the venom. Otherwise it would have been much worse.

However, the brief struggle had consumed too much time, and whatever chance she had of reaching the altar had died along with the wasp. She struggled to her feet again, but the effort caused her vision to dim.

[Don't pa.s.s out!]

She looked around, trying to find out if any of the others could manage to take over, but the situation was grim.

Tal and Brenden were still where she had left them. The elf was moving in her direction unsteadily, frequently tripping on the debris. Brenden had completely exhausted what was left of his stamina. Using his sword as a crutch he was grimly pressing on, but there was no hope of help from that corner.

Mike was still fighting the former Chosen, and seemed to be hard pressed there. As she watched, the armored warrior threw a boulder the size of a wagon at the youth, and Mike only managed to avoid it by the barest of margins. Before he even had a chance to regain his balance, the creature was on him again, almost crus.h.i.+ng him with an overhead blow.

With no hope, Sera turned back towards the portal. The veil was close to the breaking point, she could see tears already starting to form, and the altar was rocking under the force of the spatial distortion.

Cursing her own weakness and inept.i.tude, Sera had just about given up, when she caught the hint of motion out of the corner of her eye.

There, next to the altar, hiding behind one of the stalagmites was the cat beastman that had fled into the cavern earlier in the fight. In the chaos that had followed, Sera had completely forgotten about her.

With a sudden surge of energy, she raised her voice to call out to woman.