Chapter 65: Psychic Chain Lightning

Bee’s fingers turned spiderlike and she latched onto the pillar they hid behind and scampered up, turning a vibrant shade of red to match the ceiling.Will hastily equipped his ring, tomahawk and amulet, while considering the situation he found himself in. His Relics equipped, Will followed suit and climbed the pillar in a heartbeat, Will checked his Charge. “Billy-bob. Stevie.” “Yes?” the spirits asked, emerging from the pillar beside him. “I want you to scout out how tough those faceless minions are. Billy-bob, you lure one away from the rest and try and take him out with a sucker-punch to the back of the head. I’m going to the kitchen to get some supplies.” “Yes Master.” “And Stevie, make a distraction to draw attention away from the kitchen, then make a nuisance of yourself. Lock doors behind bad guys, hide their tools, move furniture around. Go nuts.” “Yes, Master.” The spirits said, sinking back into the stone. “Who were you talking to?” Bee whispered, hanging upside down above him. “Ghost butlers.” “Oooh, I’d love to have one.” “They’ve got an attitude,” Will muttered, eyeballing the kitchen entrance, which hadn’t been taken by the invaders yet, since they were still rounding people up near the front of the mansion. Searᴄh the nôvel_Fire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Will peered around the corner and waited. One of the chandeliers near the entrance collapsed, magical glowing crystals shattering on impact with the marble floor, causing everyone to stare at it for a fraction of a second. Which was all he needed to make it to the kitchen. Will jumped off the pillar and through the door to the kitchen, the two spaces so close they might as well have been kissing. Will dismissed the effect instantly and began sprinting for the kitchen, screeching to a halt at the sight of the bakery’s scarred and withered proprietor wielding a cleaver. “Ack!” Willl ducked under a swing from the cleaver and pulled his mask up. “It’s me, It’s me!” Will said, pointing to his face. “William, huh?” The withered baker said, expression hardening. “What’s going on out there?” “The party is under attack by some mercenaries from the Wyrd famil-“ The antler handle of the cleaver cracked under Jean’s grip. “How many of them?” she asked, her voice icy. “Like, a ” Will said, leaping past the island in the middle of the kitchen to grab the chef’s knives on the far wall, along with another cleaver. Will briefly thought of having Stevie transport weapons to the hostages, but that…didn’t seem like it would end well. Having a non-relic weapon was better than having weapon, but it wouldn’t bridge the gap, that was for sure. “They’re after me,” Jean said, her face paling, the cleaver in her hand trembling as she began shivering. “Huh?” Will glanced up at the old woman. “It sounded like they’re after the coffin that’s the centerpiece of the main hall. You weren’t even mentioned. But if it makes you feel any better, me and Bee are gonna take care of them,” Will said as he used dimensional storage on the knives. The only way he would have a chance against the mercs is if he could steal their Relics. If it worked for Mark Wyrd, it could work for these guys. “No!” Jean said, grabbing Will’s shoulder with bone-crushing force as he tried to leave. “Ow.” “You can’t let my girls fight them.” Jean said, her eyes wild as she spun Will around to face her. “Bee and Ria aren’t actually-“ “You letthem” “Why-“ Will’s question died on the vine as one of the masked minions entered the kitchen, creeping towards them with empty hands, like one might approach a wild animal. “Alright, you two. Weapons down and make your way to the-“ The slender minion rocked forward for a moment as Billy-bob sucker punched him in the back of the head with everything he had. The minion straightened up and glanced behind him curiously. “Master, they’re rather tough,” The butler said. “Noted.” Will switched the slotted Relic effect from the Wand of the Undead Retainer to Stormfists, and Billy-bob vanished. Every physical stat went up by 7. The entire world slowed down, and the burden of air resistance seemed to evaporate. Will leapt over the island, watching the enemy glance back towards him and freeze for that crucial fraction of a second as he brought the Tomahawk of the Serpent down on his neck. Will’s eyes widened as he took in the fact that he’d buried the tomahawk all of perhaps a hair’s breadth into the minion’s neck. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Will kicked away a fraction of a second before the minion’s hand closed down around the space where his wrist had been. Will scanned the minion’s body for a Relic that could account for his near-immunity to damage. Even as Will did so, the paper-cut sealed itself, healing nearly instantly. While the small figure was wearing full-body leather concealing all their skin, they didn’t have any tell-tale lumps around any of their fingers, no necklaces, no weapons, no boots, and no ambient aura from the presence of a Relic. Will kicked back and clambered over the island, barely keeping out of reach of the minion who followed him with implacable determination. Pots and pans scattered everywhere, making an unholy racket as the minion jumped over the island after him, and the two played a quick game of keep-away. Will was winning, obviously, as he was faster, and the pots and pans conspired to slip under his opponent while Will had no such problem. Will was able to get three more hits in as his opponent slipped across the floor, draining his stats by 9% for the next few seconds. Will wound up for the coup-de-grace and hit the minion in the back of the neck with the blade of the tomahawk. It should’ve severed his opponent’s spine, but Will got no more than a paper-cut. Will danced back out of range of a retaliatory strike, but he wasn’t expecting another minion to burst out of the back of the one he was fighting, grabbing hold of his arms with unnatural strength. “AIIII!” a young man’s face, covered in scars, screamed at him with inhuman fury as arms began drawing him in, more and more hands latching on to his body, rendering him immobile with inhuman strength. Will thought, strangely calm under the sheer terror. Unstoppable hands clasped around his neck… And were severed by a cleaver, held by the withered crone. “The real one isn’t even here, Will!” Jean shouted, kicking the Tangled away from him as it turned to face her, sending it hallway through the far wall. Will was torn from the creature’s grasp, furrows of missing skin on his arms and legs where it had gotten hold of him. “The main body is somewhere you can’t get to it, wearing damage-sharing Relics. You can’t kill them.” The old woman glanced at her cleaver ruined beyond repair by the creature’s stone-like body, and tossed it aside. “How do you that? Did you help make these things or something?” Will gasped, tearing the disembodied hands away from his neck and flinging them aside. “Nope,” Jean said, shaking her head. “Theres a passage that leads to the second story dining room, we can escape from there.” She said, heading off to a side door. “The others will be here in seconds.” True, the Tangled that she’d kicked into the corner was getting back to its feet and Will heard footsteps pounding towards them from the main hall. His mind surged. “Nah, I think I’ll just beat them now,” Will said with a shrug, eyeballing the hall leading to the charging horde of Tangled before glancing back at the old woman. “If I keep the Wyrd mercenaries from noticing your girls, you promise to tell me how you know this?” Jean opened her mouth, but there was no more time to speak, as the Tangled leaped at him, its body reforming into a human’s for better mobility. Will leapt up and kicked off the ceiling. The hallway was a good eight feet tall, and the Tangled were five feet tall. He connected the air above to the far wall on the other side, shrinking the space of the hall above their heads. In the blink of an eye, Will had bolted over their heads, landing in the center of the main hall, where more of the masked minions were milling around, their attention snapping to him with unnatural synchronicity. “FOOLS!” Will said, climbing up onto a decorative planter in the center of the room, leaning into the effect of his gaudy clothing and the snarling dragon mask that no one had associated with William oh yet. He drew on the experience gained in his recent part-time job of fixing exhibition matches and took a pose, pointing haughtily down at those below. “You dare to fight the Dragon of Akul!?” Will motioned for them to approach. It had exactly the effect he was hoping for. Two Tangled leapt at him, but they were slow and he wasn’t falling for the growing-extra-arms trick again. He leapt over them, kicking off their shoulders, pulling his feet out of range of their extra arms and heading towards a bigger group of them, skidding to a halt at the last second and juking to the left, heading towards the clump herding people into the west wing. He caught sight of Void as the masked mercenary glanced up at Will, chased by over a dozen leather-clad Tangled. “Spread out you idiots, he’s-“ Will ducked under a flying sword from Arms, skidded to a halt and sprinted back, straight into the dozens of faceless masks approaching from every angle. Will raised his axe and sent a Charge through the Tomahawk, unleashing a haunting chord that created a 20ft AOE of Psychic damage. If there was anything Will was certain of, it was that the mental stats of Tangled were extraordinarily low. Their master wouldn’t want them to be strong willed. The Stormfist effect triggered on the attack, and every single Tangled in the room began to convulse as their mind and body received a sudden shock. Even the ones outside the radius. They weren’t dead though, and Will aimed to correct that as he began pumping psychic damage through his captive audience, chained together by damage-sharing. Boar charged Will, who wanted none of the wall of muscle approaching him. One of the psychic waves hit Boar, getting a lucky hit and sending crackles of lightning through his body. If anything, Boar went Will slipped out of the way of the massive man’s charge with his speed, and immediately found a massive sword slashing towards his face. Will ducked and perceived another blade approaching out of the corner of his eye. Will thought, springing out of the way the only direction that was available, straight into the waiting blade aiming to skewer him. Will shoved himself with Phantom Hand and jerked sideways in midair, causing Arm’s attack to miss. His enemies weren’t using Charge yet. If he blasted through all his Charge just to stay alive, that was the end. He needed to kill the Tangled before they recovered and added themselves to the mix. That would make him well and truly screwed. Will sprung backward, sprinting up the side of one of the main pillars, tiny cracks in the paint becoming entire footholds as he ran, gaining distance before throwing his tomahawk toward the center of the pile of twitching minions. Boar dodged the spinning war axe, which was caught by Phantom Hand, which began spinning, creating a constant drone, applying the axe’s debuff to everything nearby. That alone was valuable, but Will wanted something more. Will thought as he sent his Charges through the Phantom Hand. In front of his eyes, the axe erupted with the haunting chord, inflicting psychic damage as Will’s Charges passed through the Phantom Hand. Arm’s hand clamped down on the Tomahawk of the Serpent, and Will felt his connection to the Relic sever. An instant later, it tore itself out of the Phantom Hand’s grip and began floating behind Arms, just one faceless weapon in an arsenal of them. An instant later, Will felt a bony fist grasp his heart, yanking him away from the pillar he was sheltering on. The wind was driven out of his body as he impacted the unforgiving marble, spotting Void with a sickly purple aura around his hand, his arm aiming right at Will’s chest. “Goodbye whoever you ar-“ Phantom Hand impacted against Void’s hand just as the fingers around Will’s heart began to tighten. An instant later, the hand was gone and Will could breathe, scrambling to get upright before the next attack came. Arm’s finger twitched and Will’s own axe began to approach, spinning at a speed that Will never could’ve managed, and that speed gave the single chord more depth, a pulsing rhythm, that seemed to add notes and a beat…as if he were listening to uncanny death-music. Rather than attack Will directly and give him the opportunity to take it back, the Tomahawk of the Serpent began to circle around him, and Will could feel his strength slipping away from him as the 3-second debuffs began stacking. Before Will could even consider his response, Boar slipped through the encircling axe, bull-rushing Will. Will dodged, but not quite fast enough, his ankle suddenly engulfed by iron. The mansion around him went topsy turvy, spinning wildly as Will was whipped towards the ground by his ankle. Desperately, Will pushed away the ground…and it worked, causing the floor itself to bend out of the way as he was swung downward, reaching the limit of Boar’s arm and swinging down underneath the warrior instead. Will twisted his spine, released a chef’s knife from Phantom Hand and slammed it into Boar’s inner thigh with everything he had. “AGH! DAMMIT!” Boar growled, releasing Will and clutching his leg. Will knew a healing potion was coming and he wanted to steal it, but Arms and Void pushed him back, taking all his focus and liberal use of Phantom Hand to avoid outright dying. By the time he’d gotten some space to breathe, Boar had already yanked the knife out of his femoral artery and downed a potion, a red aura gathering around him. Will thought, ducking behind a pillar to give himself an instant to breathe and think of a solution. A heartbeat later, Boar emerged through the pillar with so much force that the stone parted like water.