World Filter

The building was quickly becoming surrounded by Corrupted. Below he could see the small group of ringleaders fighting off the horde and trying to retreat. They were managing to disengage and fall back the way they came. The corrupted weren't interested in them so they were making steady progress.

Mark could see Ordinators below, moving throughout the crowd.

They were directing the Corrupted up the sides of the building. Slowly climbing straight up, using the brickwork or even each other as footholds. Every now and then one of them clumsy lost their grip and went tumbling off the side of the building crashing into the ground below.

Mark stepped out onto the ledge, he could already see they were about halfway up the side.

He probably had another two to three minutes before they were up here. Not that he was going to wait that long.

Mark began molding his [Shape Mana] into a ramp, similar to how he had done for his impromptu sky diving lesson. Only there were some significant changes. For one thing, he put a hell of a lot more resources into it this time and made it less steep. Fixing it on the edge of the building he extended the construct down past the road, over the fence, and right into the cemetery. Extending it out into the single longest use of his spell to date.

“Let’s go, Boe, this going to get a little rough,” he said.

Then he began running along the top of his spell. The Corrupted surged toward him, abandoning the building.

The problem was he had a direct path forward and a gentle decline spurring him on. In no time at all he had left the horde underfoot.

He crossed over the fence into the cemetery just as the group of ringleaders were getting there. They didn't see him yet, but unfortunately for them, they were already dead.

The hoards had been ignoring them in favor of chasing Mark. So as such, they had been free to escape toward the church.

However with Mark now running in the same direction as them the horde was catching up and surrounding them. They broke ahead briefly when they crossed the waist-high wrought iron fence, but as the weight of hundreds of Corrupted crashed into it, it collapsed like a house of cards.

After that, the Corrupted slowly caught up until their group was swallowed up by the hoard and Mark couldn't tell the two groups apart.

As soon as he hit the ground, he snapped the spell back drawing it in rapidly.

Dashing straight toward the crowd of retreating mourners. There were fewer people here now but Mark could see they had collected themselves. As he approached they saw they were still trying to gather up the corpse of their precious high priest and drag it into the temple.

He ran past them, past the pyre, and deeper into the cemetery.

The group's desire to recover their leader was their downfall. As the horde surrounded them, they huddled around his corpse, prepared to fight to the death. However, the Corrupted rushed past them, ignoring their presence entirely. Even when the clergy attacked and killed some of the Corrupted, the monsters showed no signs of slowing down.

The group realized they were safe from the surrounding horde that had eyes only for Mark. They were surprised at first, but then broke out in cheers as the horde swept past them. Some even dropped down to pray as the current of Corrupted parted around them. One man screamed above the din that their high priest was protecting them and that the lord of dawn was happy with them. For a moment, the group felt like a lighthouse in the middle of the ocean, standing firm against the waves of Corrupted crashing against the rocks of their faith.

That moment ended abruptly when Mark hardened his heart and brought his ward back up. He didn't even look back but the sound of their triumphant shouts turned to screams of horror and desperation.

Something he was sure would be revisiting him in his nightmares.

A good portion of the Corrupted were still following him, so he kept moving. Without the mark calling out to them the Corrupted seemed to calm slightly, but it was too soon to celebrate just yet as there was a great number of Ordinators in the pack. Urging the hoard on. Mark was quickly reaching the other side of the cemetery. It was quite the ways still, but dancing around gravestones, Burial plots, and crypts kept him well ahead of the horde and the distance was growing.

It seemed he would be able to lose them if things carried on like this. Unfortunately, as the fence to the edge of the cemetery came into sight a problem arose.

The street beyond was crowded with Corrupted, moving towards him. The mark must have reached all the way over here, just to a lesser extent. Causing a slow-rolling migration of zombies. Which were now acting as a barrier to the streets beyond.

He could see that if he could get to the building he might be able to escape by moving along the tops again.

But even getting to the point where his construct could reach would be an uphill battle.

Right, so his options were as follows. West had the same problem as here because of its proximity to the street. East had space but that option extended into the cemetery and would eventually result in a dead end. He’d be trapped with no way out.

Of course, backward was not an option at all.

So the only real chance he had was forward. To fight his way through the growing horde just for the chance to escape. All while being surrounded from all directions.

The light was cresting the horizon and rays of sunlight were touching the tops of buildings in front.

“Right, no one said it would be easy to survive the end of the world, Boe stay low and stay near,” he said while bringing all his remaining Prana and Mana to bear.

If he was going to do this, he’d do it right.

He gave up all pretenses of stealth for the moment and dropped his ward once more. The corrupted ahead stirred like ripples on a pond.

He cast [Shape Mana] and charged it with everything he had except a small amount for emergencies.

Shaping it over just his torso, neck, and head, leaving his arms and legs completely exposed.

He had never poured his many resources into such a small construct. Its normal, semi-transparent nature took on a deep purple hue, becoming opaque. To the point where he had to weaken it near his eyes or risk blocking his own vision. Bringing it in even closer he compressed it down against his skin until it sat snugly over his form like a suit of armor.

At this point, he was nearing the fence and already the masses Corrupted were thick here. He stored his rifle in his inventory and drew his machete and Glock 19.

Opening fire, immediately dropping a couple in front. The Corrupted began to close in and Mark continued to unload his mag at anything that got too close. The Glock fired its final round and Mark sent it into his inventory too.

Moving the machete to his dominant hand he swung forward into the skull of a stumbling Corrupted and shoved it out of the way.

He was almost at the fence.

Four Corrupted blocked his path, lunging for him. Mark batted one out of the air. Two he dodge but the last one fell on his calf, drawing sharp claws down his leg. Ripping straight through the material of his pants and leaving shallow slash marks in his flesh. He gritted his teeth and continued forward, knocking the Zombie on its ass. More appeared to take their place, Mark continued to hack through their numbers. Each earning a slash or a bite for his troubles.

He moved over the fence and into the road. Boe hopped it and dropped into the path Mark was clearing.

The Real problem started here.

Their numbers were becoming so thick that fighting several at the same time became the norm. For each one he cut down, more moved to fill the gaps.

His blade never stopped moving.

Attacks never stopped coming.

His construct groaned under pressure and open wounds littered his arms and legs.

He kept moving forward, the rooves of the apartment block ahead of him acting as a guiding light.

Mark only turned every now and then to make sure that Boe was still behind him.

When the Corrupted became so numerous they were surrounded on all sides Boe moved between Mark's feet. There was simply no space behind him anymore. Boe would jump out to attack and then retreat back to Mark.

Their movement had stalled to a crawl.

Each step Mark took cost him flesh and blood. His passive was working overtime to keep the blood loss at bay.

[Invigorate] kept him conscious.

Pain became all that Mark could feel but for each bite, he gave as good as he got.

His mind slipped into the endless cycle of battle.

At some point, a ping went off but Mark never heard it.

What he lacked in strength he made up for in persistence. The human body is an incredibly powerful tool but to save itself it puts restrictions on what one's conscious mind can do.

What happens then when one removes those?

One does not need to be enhanced if every bit of strength is wrung out of the muscle. If each hit made was at the absolute limit of what the human body could produce. Consequences be damned.

And where a person would normally drop after one of these movements - with every muscle torn and broken - Life flooded his cells, Reataching, Rebuilding.

With no limitations and endless stamina.

It became a dance of killing blows and ripping tendons.

Like this - without knowing - their pace began to increase from a standstill to a walk. Bit by bit they moved through the smothering horde.

Mark's blade was made of thick reinforced steel. Designed to hack through the thickest of undergrowth, but even still its edge dulled against bone and cartilage. Warps and bends started to appear in its frame.

When they got to the middle of the road it finally gave out and snapped while plowing through a Corrupted’s vertebrae.

This woke Mark from the haze of battle. His eyes flickered up, he was in range.

He released the handle, letting it fly off into the crowd, and dropped low. Grabbing Boe in the process.

The Corrupted tried to pile on, but Mark flared the construct around him - which was showing signs of fractures - in a dome, knocking the Corrupted back.

Then brute forcing it he extended it under his feet, shooting the both of them up a story. The movement was taxing, but necessary, leaving Mark on empty.

He landed on the roof and with a shaky start began to move to the next roof and the next. Quickly wrapping his will around himself once more. He only stopped moving when the buildings started to get further apart and the sound of the hoard died down. Small highrises began to appear.

Finding an open window he crawled inside a small one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment. Searching and finding no threats he collapsed against the bed and waited.

He wanted the pass out so badly, but he knew if he did the ward would come down and he’d be in shit all over again. He wasn't going to do that, not when he was so close.

The pain of multiple wounds on each of his arms and legs began to make themselves known, now that the adrenaline was fading.

So to distract himself he brought up his prompts

56 x Corrupted humanoid cleansed(56 + Sector reward: x4)[224]

13 x Corrupted Ordinators cleansed(13 + Sector reward: x4)[52]

82 System Points awarded

196/196

Level up!

+2 Prana, +2 Resistance

Spell Acquired: Read Memory

Through the stabilizing use of Mana, you have learned how to gaze into the minds of others, allowing the user to live through the target's memories.

The amount of detail gained is based on the user's Mana attribute compared to the target.

Effect heavily reduced to those of equal or higher Mana attribute than the caster, unless the user's target relinquishes control.

Warning: This spell is not considered Prohibited however may lead to the unlocking of other Prohibited spells.

Skill Acquired: Limit release(Physical)

You have learned to make the best of what you have. More than that, by pushing yourself beyond what you know to be safe you are able to wring out the strength that was always yours.

At the cost of body integrity, deliver explosive bursts of strength.

The strength of this skill is based on Aura and Resistance attributes.

Congratulations [Passive Regeneration(Self)] has improved.

Without much thought, he put 5 attributes into Mana and 5 in Prana.

Name: Mark Young (22 - M)

Level: 15

Next level: 111/225

Stats:

Resistance

Aura

Mana

Prana

204 (+2) [+145]

0

68 (+5)

145 (+1, +2, +5) [+25]

Unspent stat points - 0

Corruption value: 40.38%

System Points: 164.8

Skills: Meditation, Limit release(Physical)

Spells:

Passive Regeneration(Self)[5], Force bolt[6], Prana Pulse[2], Regenerate[4], Draw Corruption[5], Corruption recovery[3], Shape Mana(Force)[7], Invigorate[3], Cleansing surge[1], Read Memory[1].

World inventory. Marketplace. Trade

His mind spun as he stared at the numbers and skills, warping in front of his eyes.

His breath came in shallow pants and was the only sound in the room.

At some point, he felt a sharp jolt of pain as Boe rested his head on top of Mark's bloodied leg. With a monumental amount of effort, he raised a hand and rested it on Boe’s back.

“Good… boy” he rasped.

He summoned his phone from his inventory.

His head began to droop.

Mark fought against his body's instinct to rest with everything that he had.

His eyes fell on his phone’s display.

10:37 AM

Gritting his teeth, he sunk his fingers into a nasty wound on his thigh.

Bearly registering the pain.

10:51 AM

The world was a blur of colors with no defining lines. Darkness swam at the edges.

Blood loss and exhaustion nipped at his heels.

11:02 AM

Mark let out a single nearly inaudible chuckle.

The last thing he heard was a faint whirring sound of a distant lawnmower and the world faded.