Tick Tock On The Clock [LITRPG Deckbuilding with Time Ticking down]

[04: 19: 52: 45]

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It happened too fast for Cassian to counter any attack all he managed was to move a little to minimize the damage.

«You have been hit. CRITICAL DAMAGE [250] Piercing and Slashing damage from demonic claws. Stomach punctured.»

«You have been hit. CRITICAL DAMAGE [150] Piercing damage from Demonic Cursed Soul Arrow. Right shoulder in critical condition.»

Through the blur of fire and smoke, the demon pack leader surged forward—massive, red-skinned, and roaring with fury. Its obsidian fist came down like a battering ram, slamming into Cassian's chest with bone-crushing force.

He didn't even get the chance to scream.

The world tilted. His body went weightless—then momentum claimed him. He crashed through the forest, snapping branches like brittle glass, bark, and dirt exploding around him as he was flung backward through the underbrush.

His body bounced once before crumpling in a broken heap, gasping as the forest spun around him. Somewhere in the distance, the demon roared again—but Cassian barely heard it over the pounding in his skull.

«You have been hit. CRITICAL DAMAGE [402] Blunt damage from Demonic Party Leader.»

«You have been cursed by [Demonic Cursed Soul Arrow]: Soul Drain for 120 seconds. Your Essence will continue draining. WARNING: Remove the arrowhead immediately or the effect will stack.»

«You are afflicted by multiple debuffs: [Silence], [Exiled], [Soul Drain], [SEVERELY WEAKENED]»

Cassian groaned, the weight of damage dragging him halfway into unconsciousness.

System alerts flashed in a dizzying blur across his vision. He spared them a glance, jaw clenched, then dismissed them with a flick of will. No time to process. No time to dwell.

His entire body throbbed—no, screamed—with pain. His skull pounded with a splitting headache, and something hot and wet was pooling on his side. The air stank of smoke and blood.

Fuck FUCK!… Ahhhh!

I got fucking wrecked, he thought, slumping against the base of a twisted tree. Absolutely reamed.

Ohh Nice… at least something is working right…

His breathing came in shallow, ragged gasps. His hands trembled. Blood poured from his shoulders and from his punctured stomach, hot and steady, the cursed arrow still jutting from the wound like a grotesque trophy.

Cassian gritted his teeth, braced against the bark, and reached for the shaft. His vision pulsed, spinning with every heartbeat.

One pull. Just one.

He wrapped his bloodied fingers around the arrow. And with a scream torn straight from his gut, he yanked.

The arrowhead slid free in a slick, sickening motion.

Cassian gasped, choking on the pain, and then he almost threw the cursed thing into the dirt when an idea stuck him. His shoulder pulsed like fire—but the moment the arrow left his flesh, the drain stopped and some clarity returned.

The mental fog lifted like a cloud parting. His limbs still ached, and his organs still screamed, but the corruption—that soul-sapping rot—was gone.

Twelve.

Great… But if artifacts were still functioning properly…

Cassian drew a shaky breath and reached deep into his bond. The familiar pulse answered him—hungry, eager.

"Come on… Sindi."

It took every shred of his will to push past the lingering haze left by the debuffs. His thoughts felt sluggish, his focus shattered like cracked glass. Still, he forced his intent through. Summon MY SINDIVINITY.

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The dagger materialized in a flash of black metal and violet heat, humming in his grip with the glee of predator-tasting blood. It pulsed in his hand, vibrating with dark joy as if it had missed him.

You would be excited about this, wouldn't you?

Cassian steadied himself against the tree, brought the cursed arrowhead back into view—and pressed it against Sindi's blade.

The dagger shuddered, then bit.

With a twisted snap, the arrow was consumed whole, its remnants swallowed in a ripple of shadow along the dagger's edge.

«Your artifact SINDIVINITY has absorbed a Demonic Spectral Bonded Arrow.»

«SINDIVINITY's unique ability [Soulsteal] triggered — Target: Demon Fura'halla'kalsang.»

«Drained 121 HP and 12 Essence points.»

«[Soulsteal] has inflicted severe soul damage on Demon Fura'halla'kalsang via active bonded connection.»

Cassian wiped a smear of blood from his brow, panting. The air still tasted of dirt and ash, but a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Nice… Didn't expect that.

Sindi's capabilities were evolving, becoming nastier in ways he hadn't even accounted for. If the demon that fired the cursed arrow was still out there—and his luck didn't suck entirely—it'd just drop to its knees. Maybe worse.

But if it didn't… then that's five demons I'll have to deal with.

And he was still under some severe debuffs. Silence. Exile. Soul Drain's residue.

I can't cast any spells. No summons and seemingly no possible way to kill the demons.

He tightened his grip around Sindivinity's hilt. Its edge still shimmered faintly, as though savoring the aftertaste of the demonic arrow.

Then, as he expanded his sphere of perception to the maximum, something brushed against the edge of his perception.

A faint, cold ripple, but before he could focus on it sounds of his pursuers came closer now.

Shit. they are probably close now… no more time wasting, I need to move.

He didn't have the strength for another fight, not yet. Not here.

Gritting his teeth, he staggered upright, forcing his legs to cooperate. His knees buckled, but he caught himself before falling. Blood still leaked down his side in sticky warmth, and every breath rattled in his ribs like broken glass.

Still, he moved.

His feet scraped through the underbrush, every stumble punctuated by sharp gasps and ragged coughs. Branches clawed at his arms like skeletal fingers.

Fuck… I gotta put more distance before they find me. If they do—

His vision flickered, edges blurring in and out of focus. The steady pulse of warmth dripping down his ribs reminded him he was leaving a trail. Even a half-blind demon could follow the smell of leaking so much blood.

I'm as good as dead in this state.

Gritting his teeth, Cassian crouched low, pushing his battered body forward with sheer force of will. He called on his stealth skill again, shoving the last wisps of essence he had into the fading core of his being. It wasn't much—but it was enough.

The world shifted.

The surrounding trees blurred, their bark swallowed by darkness as the effect took hold. The night thickened, warped by his presence.

Shadows clung to him like a cloak, the forest dimming until he was no longer a man fleeing for his life—he was a shadow, a ghost slipping through cracks in the world.

The underbrush parted for him like mist.

He moved—slower than he wanted. He passed between trees like a hunted wraith, each step careful, controlled, and calculating.

He would be fine the demons won't find—A sudden whoosh of searing heat exploded through the trees to his right. A wave of flame roared across the canopy, igniting bark and leaf alike. Fire raced across branches, and the night howled.

Through the smoke and ash, Roars and that demon leader commented loudly, but all Cassian heard was gibberish until his myriad tongue activated.

{…Burn everything… force the human out }

Their voices crawled through the flame—rasping, guttural, gutted by hate. The demonic tongue curled around his ears like worms. Cassian mentally tuned out their voices, only focusing on the important stuff.

Shit. They're close. Are they—? Are they trying to burn the whole forest down?

The smoke made it harder to breathe. Every step was a gamble between stealth and suffocation. His body was failing. His arms trembled. His knees buckled with every bound. His lungs dragged each breath like shards of glass.

But he kept going.

Can't stop. Not yet. Can't let them box me in.

Cassian's ears twitched. Beneath the crackling fire and the snarls of his pursuers, he heard it—a low, rolling roar, constant and deep.

Water.

Is that a waterfall? Gods, yes—there's a drop nearby. If I can make it…

He pushed harder, vaulting over a broken log, slipping through a web of roots, and ducking under a branch as green flame detonated above him, scorching bark and sending cinders dancing across his back.

Ten more seconds.

Just ten more and I'll be at the edge…

And then a shape stepped out of the gloom. The demon pack leader.

Its skin was the color of scorched blood, armor carved from bone and obsidian, a trio of blackened horns curling from its head like a twisted crown. Deep, burning sigils glowed on its chest and arms, pulsing in time with its hatred.

Cassian didn't have time to react as the demon moved easily, closing the gap in a single step—and drove its fist straight into Cassian's ribs.

FUCK!

Pain tore through him. His feet left the ground. His body twisted, skidding across the forest floor before slamming into the base of a tree. The bark cracked. Something inside him cracked, too… probably more bones.

Cassian coughed blood, vision swimming.

And then the demon leader was there, above him, a giant of hell and malice. With one clawed hand, it grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground like a doll.

"You run well for a worm," the demon snarled, its voice deep and cold, resonating as molten iron dragged across the stone. "But your legs have failed you. Just like your pathetic race."

Cassian choked, clawing at its grip. He reached for his dagger—Sindivinity flashed in his hand—and he thrust forward with what little strength he had.

The blade met the demon's arm.

The leader merely tilted its head… and slapped the weapon from his grasp. The dagger skittered into the dirt behind them.

"A fine blade," the demon mused. "Wasted on human flesh."

Its claws tightened.

Cassian gasped as his throat was crushed. Darkness surged at the edges of his vision. Notifications blinked in front of his eyes—flashes of red, warnings of system failure, of critical thresholds passed—but they were fading.

Everything was. Colors drained. Sound dimmed. His world folded in on itself.

Is this it?

His body dangled, limp. His arms wouldn't move. His thoughts slowed. The final curtain was descending.

No, I can't be asking this myself every time I get fucked… I need to reach Arwyn… I killed the mother of kalrach…, this is just a fucking demon trash.

Cassian's eyes locked with the demons. And in that frozen instant, clarity returned. His heart pounded like a war drum in his chest, defiant against death. And then—something clicked.

The weight crushing his body, the fog clouding his thoughts—it all snapped into sharp, brutal focus. The demon's features, twisted in sadistic triumph, shimmered faintly as if overlaid with illusion. His mind reeled with the sudden recognition.

This scene... this feeling... it's familiar.

Like the moment he'd seen in the inherited memory from the legendary card. That pressure. That weight.

This is just a fucking demon, he thought, teeth bared in defiance. Stronger than me right now—but still trash.

Beneath the despair, the ruin, the pain—there it was. A flicker. A sliver of something pure, silver, forming not in his essence, not from his deck—but from within his heart.

Not a skill. Not a card. Something pure... Something his.

He reached for it without hesitation.

Time twisted and the demon's smirk froze. Its arrogance melted into confusion. Its claws loosened on his throat.

{ Impossible…}

And Cassian saw it.

Not just physical pursuit—this demon had cloaked its presence in something subtler. It had been weaving a mental bind around him this whole time. Warping perception. Dulling reaction. Not enough to be obvious. Just enough to cripple him.

You sneaky, cheating bastard...

Cassian's rage ignited. And the silver aura answered. It pulsed once—hard—within his chest and then exploded outward.

A blade of light lanced from his heart, silver and sharp, slicing across the demon's torso like a sword forged of defiance and raw will.

The leader stumbled back with a guttural snarl, clawed hand clutching its now-smoldering chest. Smoke curled upward from the wound, glowing faintly like molten scripture etched across its flesh.

Cassian hit the ground hard, gasping, vision swimming. His body was a ruin—but his mind was clearer than ever.

I can't win this. Not now. Not in this state even with this new power.

But chaos had been sown. That was all he needed.

He forced his trembling limbs to obey, pushing himself up, step by agonizing step until the edge loomed behind him. The cliff dropped away into the mist and roaring water.

Time to go.

Cassian turned his head—blood dripping from his chin—and locked eyes with the leader one last time. He raised a middle finger, handshaking, and rasped through broken laughter "Next time I see you dumb meathead excuse of a demon… you better have a demoness for me cough…"

And then Cassian leaned back.

And fell.

His body pitched off the cliff, arms spread as gravity claimed him. The air tore past him in a rush of howling wind and stinging rain. Branches whipped across his face, slashing his arms and cloak as he plummeted through the dense canopy.

The roar of the waterfall grew deafening.

The water hit like stone.

It crushed him, drove the air from his lungs, and swallowed him whole. Darkness exploded behind his eyes as the river wrapped around him like a shroud of ice and fury.

The world disappeared. But somewhere, deep within that frozen dark... Cassian survived.

Probably.

...