“Been a while, asshole,” Rory snarled as he defended himself from the sudden assault. Taking advantage of the brief stalemate, Rory examined the monster, searching for usable information.

  Architect’s Bane

  Tier: 6

  Known Adaptations:

  -Unknown

  Record: 0-1

  That’s odd. Rory thought to himself as he dismissed the information within an instant. He wasn’t shocked to see that the Architect’s Bane seemingly played by entirely different rules from any other monster. Still, it didn’t change the oddity that its display information presented compared to any other monster. No level, only a tier, likely meant that Eon dictated its strength -its personal ‘growth’ or any other variable likely had no effect.

  I’m not sure what it means by adaptations, but there seems to be a single unknown one.

  His brief scuffle with the Architect’s Bane was interrupted as a scythe swung through the air, aiming toward its face. Rather than attempt to take the strike, the chosen bane leaped back and away, wary of the weapon made from its arm.

  Speaking of which.

  The Architect’s Bane had changed in appearance, albeit lightly. It still had a weird bat and xenomorph-styled appearance, but it no longer had scythe arms that looked like the wings of a fighter jet. Instead, they’d been replaced by long, spindly, triple-jointed appendages. They were arms that looked like they’d come straight from a mutant orangutan.

  Having chased the chosen bane back a step, Apostolos stood next to Rory, facing down the threat.

  “It’s ugly as hell,” Apostolos said after musing momentarily. “It regrew its arm.”

  “I can see that.” Rory nodded along. “Also changed its appearance a bit.”

  “Oh, did it now?” Apostolos questioned before shrugging. “Not that it matters to me since it’s my first time getting a good look at it.”

  “Oh, right,” Rory answered. He’d forgotten that Apostolos had never gotten a look at the chosen bane before; it had one-shot him and forced his respawn in the blink of an eye.

  “So… should we kill it?” Apostolos offered, looking between his former master and the abominable beast.

  “Maybe the best idea you’ve ever come up with,” Rory snickered, earning him a glare from Apostolos.

  “Yeah, whatever you say, old-timer. I’ve had plenty of good ideas. That dementia is probably kicking in, and you just forgot them.”

  Rory snorted in response to the jibe. Then, the moment of humor was gone as the two darted forward. Dashing in from the right side of the chosen bane, Apostolos swung his scythe at its head once more as Rory dove in low, attempting to drive the dual daggers into its leg. Spinning around, the wickedly long tail of the chosen bane caught the two of them and sent them tumbling through the air. Apostolos was the first to recover, as his body control skill allowed for greater direct manipulation of his body.

  Now wasn’t the time for holding back anything in reserve, so Rory recovered a moment after as he whipped his hands outward, phantasmal chains turning into solid matter as he drew upon the reserves of their camp to instantly fuel his projections and arrest his momentum through the air with the chains catching upon a nearby shack.

  Catching himself with the chains, they vanished as Rory thrust a hand toward the Architect’s Bane. Erupting from seemingly nowhere, two massive chains ensnared the monster, the same attack he’d used to lock it down once before.

  A lance of sunlight shot toward the chosen bane, seeking to take advantage of its sudden capture. To their surprise, the monster seemed to shimmer like a warping refraction of light bouncing off a turbulent pond. From one instant to the next, the Chosen Bane had escaped the chains and avoided the beam of sunlight as it appeared several feet to the right.

  “Spatial warping!” Rory shouted, recognizing the feeling of space bending from his time within the Trial of Space and that the Void-Walkers had used a similar ability to teleport past their secondary wall.

  Rory winced as he felt his insides burning, having already pushed past what was ordinarily his ‘healthy’ limit of pneuma manipulation and channeling. He wasn’t Apostolos, who was only phased from channeling the might of an entire damn star, albeit a tiny one.

  Doesn’t matter.

  What the ‘healthy’ limit was wouldn’t matter if they lost. While the Chosen Bane wouldn’t kill him -something that couldn’t be said for Apostolos- losing here meant that the tier-six bracket of the event would be their total defeat.

  Swiftly drawing his bow, Rory swapped roles with Apostolos, who charged forward. Vaulting and swinging his scythe through the air as he attempted to drive the Architect’s Bane back against the wall, leaving it no room to avoid their attacks, the same tactic it had used against Rory himself. Sighting the chosen bane, Rory began releasing a stream of arrows as fast as he could. As large as the Architect’s Bane was, it simply couldn’t maneuver the entirety of its bulk out of the way of every arrow as they slammed through even the monster’s hard chitin armor. With each arrow that stabbed into the beast, gouts of orange acid spewed forward. For a moment, Rory felt a swell of confidence before it was instantly evaporated as the monster that had been seemingly on the back foot suddenly shifted, its tail spearing forward and stabbing a foot-long hole into Apostolos’s abdomen.

  Wincing, Apostolos slipped off the tail, now looking like a spear rather than its original clublike appearance. Thanks to Apostolos’s spiritual body, the hole it had just stabbed through him was nowhere to be seen. Still, Rory knew such an attack must have extensively drained Apostolos’s anima; it was far from a freely abusable skill.

  C’mon, there are two of us, and we’re both tier-six!

  They’d perhaps gotten too cocky as of late, the state of their gear had meant even low-tier-six monsters were far less threatening than they would otherwise be, but a tier-six person was not ordinarily the equal of a high or even mid-tier-six monster.

  Something they were keenly reminded of as they suddenly found themselves at a disadvantaged match-up. Waxy orange pellets began to fling forward from its body, exploding into sprays of acid that forced Rory to refrain from attacking as he avoided the acid.

  Crescent blades of sunlight swept toward the monster as Apostolos attempted to regain momentum, swinging as fast as he could while avoiding the waxy orange pellets. Still, unlike the physical scythe, the chosen bane seemed entirely unphased by the sunlight magic projected from his scythe; only concentrated sunlight beams seemed to warrant any avoidance on the Architect’s Bane’s part.

  Finding a moment of reprieve, Rory dropped to one knee as he sighted the chosen bane, an arrow drawn for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than two or three seconds. Letting the building tension add power to the arrow, Rory further empowered the arrow as he activated the barrier gems within the bow, adding a layer of armor penetration to the projectile. Finally, drawing upon their reserves, a headache growing in intensity as he did, Rory built the image of a rotating vortex within his mind, infusing it into the arrow. Waiting one final second as Apostolos and the chosen bane parted ways after a direct clash, Rory released the arrow. The building magic instantly exploded outward. The arrow shot forward, spinning like a drill bit as it shot through the air faster than even Rory could appreciate. The chosen bane was no different as it suddenly staggered, an arrow-sized hole punched through its chest, the first significant hit they’d landed.

  Grinning savagely, it lasted only a moment as the Architect’s Bane reoriented to focus on Rory, leaping through the air toward him as its arm swung forward closer to a whip than any earthly appendage. Yelping, he was tossed backward, sailing through their camp only to slam up against their walls. With the wind knocked out of him, Rory gasped, struggling to breathe.

  Ribs. Broken. Again.

  It was a testament to how far beyond humanity he’d become that when the chosen bane attempted to ram into him, Rory found the strength to continue fighting, jumping into a leaping roll that carried him away from the dent in the wall his body had created. Apostolos was sprinting toward them, attempting to rejoin the battle, only a heartbeat away. With his ribs broken -and several other bones, Rory suspected- that single heartbeat felt like an eon that stretched into an endless yawning gap of time.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Keep moving.

  Thrusting his arm forward, half a dozen flickering images of half-formed knives tumbled through the air, weakly exploding in the chosen bane’s face. The damage was minimal - a polite way of saying none - but it obscured the chosen bane’s vision for just long enough that Apostolos rejoined the battle, the tip of his scythe stabbing through the dark monster’s side.

  “You okay?” Apostolos asked as the chosen bane flitted away from the strike, putting some distance between them again.

  “Hurts like hell.” Rory hissed. “Bones broken, maybe pulverized. Feels like something else is wrong, too. Don’t know what.”

  It wasn’t just broken bones; that much had become clear, almost as if acid had invaded the space between Rory’s splintered bones, a painfully warm itch like a million fire ants inside his bone marrow.

  “Can you keep fighting?” Apostolos asked, worried.

  “Have to,” Rory grunted. Without his armor, the impact would have left him little better than an unmoving pile of jelly on the ground.

  “Can you keep the pace up?” Apostolos asked, amending his initial question.

  “Have to,” Rory repeated. “You?”

  “Anima is down to a third,” Apostolos said, not bothering to sugarcoat his situation. “One or two more hits, and I’m done.”

  “Fucking wonderful,” Rory sighed before he winced a moment after. Even a sigh hurt.

  “Plan?”

  “Win,” Rory said.

  “Great.” Apostolos rolled his eyes as he readied his scythe again. The Chosen Bane prowled toward them, eyes watching Apostolos’s scythe warily. It had the advantage, and clearly, it knew as much. They’d exhausted themselves a fair amount before the Architect’s Bane appeared.

  Was it perhaps cowardly? Yes, but for a chosen bane meant to oppose someone known as the ‘Architect,’ it only made sense that his diametric opposite would engage them in a way that would reduce the effectiveness of any prep work.

  Still chickenshit if you ask me.

  Rory knew he was hypocritical, but when you had broken bones that felt as if they’d been dipped into burning itch-inducing acid, your attitude tended to sour.

  “Cover me,” Apostolos shouted as he dashed forward, scythe swinging as crescent sunlight blades swept forward, meant to distract rather than inflict actual harm. Rory lifted his arm, wincing, as he attempted to draw more Pneuma from their camp, only to recoil as his body flinched back.

  Fuck, I’m burnt out.

  Projecting an entire miniature sun had done an absolute number on his ability to channel Pneuma, and what little he’d had left in the tank had run out exceptionally fast.

  A week? Maybe two?

  It wasn’t often that your body burnt out before your mind when it came to Pneuma over usage, something Rory knew well from his early years. However, that switched once one became skilled at insulating one’s mind from such potent energies.

  Rory hadn’t become that skilled, but his faux projection skill made up for that.

  And now he was paying the price.

  Damnit!

  Instead of attempting further magic, Rory continued with his bow, trying to plink the chosen bane when he could. Yet, with his body hurting, he could not draw his bow back with his full strength, and most of the arrows rebounded off the Architect’s Bane’s chitin armor.

  Apostolos, for his side of things, was holding up well. Dodging and weaving, he fought like his life was on the line, which it very well could be. The chosen bane had no reservations about killing him, unlike Rory. It had left last time after defeating Rory, but who was to say it wouldn’t linger around this time, waiting for Apostolos to respawn only to kill him once more?

  C’mon body, don’t fail me now.

  Taking a second, Rory beat on his biceps with a curled fist, trying to force his blood to pump faster.

  C’mon!

  Gritting his teeth, Rory separated his mind into two slices, the first focused on the battle at hand, the second containing and separating his pain from his conscious thoughts. Once the two threads of thoughts were split, Rory sucked in a deep breath as he began to pull back on his bow. His secondary frame of mind screamed in protest as he pushed his body beyond what it could physically handle at the moment, but that had been the point of splitting his thoughts to begin with.

  No longer slowed by inconsequential physical limitations such as pain, Rory released an arrow as smoothly as his fumbling body could. Pushing past the limits of his body, his arrows returned to leaping through the air in an instant, slamming into the Architect’s Bane as Apostolos locked it down with the threat of his scythe.

  One... two... three... Release! One…. two…. three…. Release!

  Repeating the mantra within his head, Rory focused on pincushing the monster. He saw Apostolos dash at the chosen bane as if intending to sweep his scythe down overhead, only to drop into a slide and strike upward with the butt of his weapon, slamming the chosen bane’s head upward directly in the path of an arrow which slammed through the side of its jaw.

  While the Architect’s Bane may have been stronger than the two of them put together, their gear was damn powerful for their tier, the strongest gear on the planet, Rory was sure. Facing the two of them alone, it was taking some rather severe damage, leaking orange acid with every step from the numerous holes that Rory had caused throughout its body.

  They were getting down to the wire, all of them. All they had to do was push a little more. Rory could feel it in his bones.

  Well, to be fair, no, he couldn’t, as he couldn’t feel anything right now, but that was beside the point.

  Distracted by the arrow that had slammed through the side of its jaw, the chosen bane was slow to react as Apostolos drove his palm into the back of the creature, his palm burning into its back and causing the creature to writhe in agonized pain for a moment as the sunlight infused hand burnt into its vulnerable back.

  Such action wasn’t without return, though. Directly touching the Architect’s Bane, Apostolos wasn’t fast enough to avoid a taloned claw strike outward, throwing Apostolos away from his scythe and crashing through the younger man’s home, the entire structure collapsing on top of him.

  Not good.

  When nobody rose from the rubble, the Architect’s Bane slowly turned to face Rory, who was taking slow, laborious breaths, even with his pain temporarily shuffled away.

  Not good at all.

  Whether Apostolos was respawning or simply unconscious beneath the pile of rubble that had once been his home, it effectively meant the same thing for Rory.

  He was on his own, struggling even to move.

  C’mon!

  Hands balled up, Rory began pounding on his legs, again repeating his attempt at forcing his blood to flow and his body to act.

  “C’mon, stupid legs, move!”

  His body responded sluggishly, partly because his ability to move was halfway sustained by magical means as banged up as he was after being slammed so hard into their wall. The issue was that his body was fried from overusing Pneuma, and it was that much more agonizingly slow as it sought to do nothing more than reject that same Pneuma sustaining it.

  C’mon!

  Hurt as the Architect’s Bane had been from the numerous arrows sticking in and through it and the hits from Apostolos’s scythe, it was still more than capable of defeating him in single-way combat. Rory could already imagine the creature pinning him down once more, burning another acidic scar beneath his eye as a reminder of his second loss.

  “C’mon!” Rory snarled, slamming his fist once more down upon his thigh.

  As if the world were responding to his demands, the earth beneath the Architect’s Bane exploded as a mass of electric blue coils suddenly assaulted the chosen bane, rapidly coiling around the monster.

  Eia!

  Rory wouldn’t lie; he’d forgotten about the serpent. Whether she’d been waiting for the opportune moment or had just returned, it didn’t matter. Coiled around the chosen bane, her scales suddenly turned crystal as her jaws widened and her fangs clasped down the top of its head, yanking backward and forcing the chosen bane to bare its throat.

  Move!

  Already, he could see the chosen bane struggling free from her constricting binds, the crystals shattering one by one, each with an accompanying gout of blood from the snake.

  Rory knew Eia was powerful for a tier-five monster. However, she was only tier-five, trying to restrict a tier-six monster. More crystal scales shattered, popping like Fourth of July party snaps. Each shattered crystal scale wasn’t just some magically conjured scale; they were her literal flesh and blood failing. If things went on for even a few seconds longer, Rory was sure the chosen bane would break free and tear Eia apart.

  And unlike himself, who the Architect Bane wasn’t allowed to kill, or Apostolos, who had his Radiant Embers to revive himself, Eia had only one life.

  Move!

  All at once, his body lurched forward as if the threat to another’s life was the sparkplug needed to kickstart his body. Running forward in a stilted sprint, Rory leaped upward and threw himself at the chosen bane without concern for his actions. The sudden acrobatics was finally too much for his secondary mental thread as the pain finally broke confinement, and Rory howled from the unshackled agony, his mind momentarily blank. Still, it wasn’t enough to stop him as he brought his clasped hands downward, activating three skills in conjunction, Pneuma backlash be damned.

  The first two were the foundation of his projection magic, a ghostly image forming between his hands.

  The third was his newest skill, Architect’s Essence Inscription. Typically, it simply replaced his former Inscription skill. That wasn’t all it did, though. It had also subsumed his version of the Essence Spark as it had evolved into Essence Projection, the part of the skill he now drew upon.

  Using all three skills together, the ghostly image that manifested was that of his trusty crafting knife, dripping with blood that seemed to refract light. Unlike his actual crafting knife, the knife he held had none of the harmless feel of something meant only to create. No, the knife he brought down upon the Architect’s Bane’s neck dripped with malice.

  Stabbing the projected knife directly into the exposed neck of the chosen bane, it screeched with agony, shaking and attempting to wriggle free. Rory did his best to hold on as tightly as he could, twisting and driving the knife in further.

  Of the three, Eia reached her absolute limit first, the only tier-five in a tier-six battle. Nearly half of her crystal scales had shattered, and unable to withstand any more damage, the rest reverted as she dropped limply to the ground like a snapped powerline.

  No longer restrained, the chosen bane swept its arms outward, tossing Rory aside as he collapsed on the ground, heaving for breath.

  Damn it!

  In his mind, Rory knew what would happen next: the monster would march up to him, eyes filled with gloating smugness, before etching another mark upon his face as it claimed tier-six as its total victory.

  Hence, to his surprise, Rory instead saw the chosen bane yank the knife free before a final, wet, gurgling screech rang out as the monster shimmered, vanishing an instant later.

  Huh?

  Rory waited for the other shoe to drop, seconds passing in silence.

  When nothing else happened for another minute, Rory felt his body relax against his will.

  Wait... Did we win?

  Before a smile could spread across his face, Rory saw the corners of his vision blackening as inky darkness consumed him.

  Ahh, there it is. Hello, darkness, my old friend.

  And just like that, they won the day without anyone conscious left standing.

  not coming across as if trying to trick you into believing Rory might die.

  seven in the case of the Reaping Ash Coscinosera, so it was a bit irregular for a tier-six monster. Either way, tier seven is where multi-phase battles are supposed to become more common, so I feel like I set up false expectations for tier six when I had the first tier-six monster be a multi-phase battle.