A Tyrant, Sort Of

Sable’s thoughts raced as she ran through her options. Thankfully, she was full on both health and mana from her recuperation over the past days.

But could she fight this thing? Not only did it radiate a profound wrongness, but the abomination the cultist had summoned was powerful enough she couldn’t even detect its level. Was that because it was that much stronger, or some other reason?

[Predator’s Insight] also didn’t provide much, besides screaming that the monster was dangerous. Though perhaps not catastrophically so? Not like the [Greater Aspect], or anywhere close. It might be stronger than her, but it wasn’t a walking world-ending calamity, like the first monster she’d seen.

Since she had been slammed down into the ground by the black chains, Sable had been gathering mana for an offensive. Though she wouldn’t call herself a battle-hardened veteran, she had spent many hours fighting vicious monsters by this point, and her predatory instincts were no pushover either. She didn’t freeze up and panic over her situation—or at least, panic too much. Hard to brush off watching dozens of people sacrifice themselves in gory, horrific fashion to summon a monster to kill her.

She didn’t know what to make of the cultist. It had come rather out of left field, besides Aylin’s mention of someone likely being responsible for Gadenrock’s fall. But what did the cultist’s comment of ‘claim our vessel’ mean?

Any real contemplation was cut off as the fight began in earnest, the [Lesser Aspect] eager to get started. She approached the fight she did most others: first, with [Frostfire Grasp]. Anything that locked the creature down and stopped it from attacking her was an obvious plus. Mana poured into the design as she etched out the runes necessary for the spell, and it activated a half-second later. Her ability to cast quickly had, like most capabilities of hers, grown rapidly over the past days.

The projectile of white-blue ice flung forward and impacted directly into the aspect’s chest. It had nearly closed the gap to her, black goo legs forming and reforming with each step, and it had its two-handed sword raised above its head, ready to cleave down onto her. That meant she was at point blank range, and the spell hit true.

Frostfire flowered in three bursts, capturing the shadow-beast in a spell she’d greatly empowered—though not excessively, as she had against Bragghaven’s team. Assuming she had a chance in this fight, then she couldn’t blow all her mana at once: that wasn’t how mana was used effectively. To an extent, all fights against opponents of a somewhat similar tier were ones of attrition.

The beast had been close enough that some of the frostfire had sprung up even around Sable herself, but whether she had natural resistances toward the element or that her own spells couldn’t hurt her, she was unharmed. Ice splintered as she struggled out and backtracked, putting space between her and the thrashing monster.

Black chains still wrapped her ankles, keeping her locked to the floor. That ability had been overwhelmingly powerful, keeping her from taking into the air and fleeing, but it seemed inert otherwise. She wondered why it worked like that. She guessed the ability had restrictions—it was effective at grounding her, but couldn’t just toss her around indefinitely, or even secure her besides keeping her on the floor.

To her relief, [Frostfire Grasp] didn’t turn out impotent: the [Lesser Aspect] screeched and thrashed as the burning-hot ice wrapped its body, sending smoke streaming into the sky. It wasn’t invincible as she’d feared, or otherwise so far beyond her reach she couldn’t fight it.

That said, it wasn’t especially perturbed. Before Sable had even fully finished her next spell, it had broken free of its prison. She’d already known it, but the [Lesser Aspect] was undoubtedly the strongest thing she’d ever fought, many times stronger even than the [Orecruncher Hivemother]. She had her own significant upgrades since then, but unlike nearly all of Sable’s fights so far, this wouldn’t be a walk in the park. Nothing close to it.

And could she even win? Could she kill something like this? Was fighting it head-on the wrong idea, or did she need to target the cultist?

Unfortunately, though not to her surprise, the elite team of classed weren’t helping her: no back-up spells or arrows came flying at the monster. Despite knowing they held no true allegiance to her, Sable’s anger flared. It quickly settled as she realized many of Skatikk’s warriors were unconscious on the floor. Just the activation of the ritual had taken them out. Several others had fled, unsteady on their feet, or were otherwise dragging their allies to safety.

Sable was alone for this one. This was a fight between heavyweights, and the Bonecracker Tribe’s flimsy alliance to her wasn’t nearly strong enough to throw themselves into the mess—if any were even healthy enough to do so.

With the time Sable had earned from locking the aspect down with a rooting spell, she imbued her claws with an attack empowerment. This was going to be a brutal brawl, she knew immediately, and so a long-term bonus like amplifying her attack strength was far better than whatever she could gain from throwing a single powerful [Frostfire Spear] at her enemy.

Breaking free of its confines, the aspect resumed its rapid advance. The sight of black goo forming and re-forming as it moved, and the sheer, unadulterated hunger in its eyes was one of the more terrifying things Sable had seen, but she’d at least faced down a slew of slavering beasts by now, and so she kept a clear mind.

A thick two-handed sword of solid black essence crashed down on her, which she didn’t fully manage to dodge—the abomination was astoundingly quick. The blade caught her shoulder, and agony seared through her like nothing she’d experienced. The attack cut even into her impenetrable physical defenses, digging into scale. Pushing through the pain, Sable tackled the shadow monster, its weapon locked into her shoulder and unable to tear it free. An enormous jaw wrapped around the shadow-monster’s throat, and she shook and tore, trying to rip its flesh out. At the same time, her empowered claws dug and scraped around its body.

During this melee, she was cobbling together another spell, though doing so came far slower when engaged so intimately in a fight like this. Casting spells took concentration, and only after so many hours scrapping with powerful monsters in the Fang Hollows was Sable even capable of it.

Despite being made of some sort of liquid, the aspect’s body was supernaturally tough. Even ripping and tearing with full strength, teeth clamped down on its neck, she managed only minor damage. The taste was horrendous, too. Even her bestial instincts revolted at the black essence filling her mouth.

The aspect finally tore its weapon free from Sable’s shoulder and shoved her away. She was sent tumbling across the town square in a way reminiscent of being manhandled by the orecruncher hivemother—though the scale of this fight was nothing similar.

Despite being rattled by the empowered shove, Sable’s spell had finally finished forming, and she shot out a second [Frostfire Grasp]. Ice flowered around the monster, buying her another moment of reprieve. More importantly, it gave her an opportunity to focus her attention somewhere else.

The cultist was still engulfed in shadows, and a thick link of black essence joined his bubble of shadows and the creation he’d wrought. She didn’t know if the defense was impenetrable, whether she needed to focus on him or his avatar, but it was definitely worth an experiment—because the aspect seemed little worse for wear despite the brutal exchange. Meanwhile, the gouge in her shoulder had been significant. Sable couldn’t rely on her scales and stats saving her in this fight.

She unleashed a wave of white-blue flames. A jet of that molten power crashed into the shadow-shield the cultist wore, and flames splashed out in all directions as it was easily rebuffed. Nearby buildings were ignited under the incredible torrent, but Sable was far from able to worry about collateral damage; she was fighting at full strength for her life. The civilians had evacuated the town square regardless, which assuaged her somewhat—not that she could have moderated herself if that hadn’t been true.

[Frostfire Grasp] could only lock down her opponent for so long, and so with unfortunate speed she was forced to give up on the cultist and refocus on her real opponent. She rolled, dodged, and threw herself into the goddess’s aspect, doing anything she could to avoid the devastating power of its long two-handed blade. She worried whether the efforts were wasted. Her stream of fire seemed to have had some effect on the cultist’s defensive shield, but so too was the aspect weakening as she fought with it. Which was the weaker point, then? Neither? Were their defenses drawn from the same power source?

She wasn’t sure. Sable quickly accrued wounds as the horrifying essence-blade scraped against her, cutting even dragonscale, and her mana pool burned just as rapidly as she was required to empower her abilities to a level where they actually had an effect against this abomination. It wasn’t an efficient use of her resources, but any weaker and her abilities simply wouldn’t be strong enough to make it pause.

“You will be mine, creature,” Nexr gasped, his voice amplified and distorted from within the shadows. “With your vessel, I will carve an empire that spans this pathetic world. It will all be mine.”

Sable didn’t have time to bother with the ravings of the madman. Though, possibly not mad. Just ambitious. Clearly he knew what he was doing to no small degree, having arranged this. Though surely messing with these kinds of powers, which were so far beyond his level, could end nowhere good for him. Unfortunately, his hubris claiming him at some point in the future didn’t matter to her, here and now.

“Get her weaker,” Nexr cried. “A few more attacks. I can almost feel the link.”

The words incited a reasonable panic. If they’d been chosen to do that, and had no truth behind them, then it was a clever piece of manipulation. Sable’s frenzied assault doubled, and she burned through mana at an even faster rate as she brawled the aspect of consumption, rooting the monster and focusing her efforts on the weaker-seeming form of the cultist whenever she could.

“Almost there,” Nexr gasped.

Sable wasn’t the only one picking up injuries; even the aspect seemed to be slowing, its goo-like body reforming far slower than before, wounds made apparent through its alien biology and behaviors.

She made a split-second decision, fear gripping her heart as she sensed some foreign power begin an invasion of her mind—a hint that the cultist’s words hadn’t been just to scare her. Much like with her own [Dominate], Nexr’s plan had apparently been to weaken her so that she was susceptible to his final goal, which Sable could only assume was to join her to the aspect and claim her as a ‘vessel’.

But she’d weakened the aspect and the cultist as well. If this were to be a battle of that sorts, then she would join in.

Grasping desperately in the direction of Nexr, she threw out [Dominate]. With a flare of agony, two minds clashed.