Duskbound

Book 2, Chapter 29

A few dozen more arrows rained down through the darkness, but before they could strike the half of the team that were just now groggily waking up, Gilder reached up a hand overhead. A surge of... something... pulsed out, detectable in every piece of metal Velik was wearing jumping in place, and suddenly the entire volley was veering off to the side to pincushion the ground around their camp.

"Go," Torwin ordered. "Leave them alive if you can."

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Velik didn't need to be told twice. He shot off into the night, [Apex Hunter] guiding him to the biggest threat. A cluster of humans were crouched behind a small hill on one knee, bows already drawn back and more arrows coming his way. This round was focused on him specifically, but it was trivially easy to sidestep them at this range. But with five hundred feet between him and his targets, they had plenty of time to keep shooting if he let them.

No point in letting them keep trying.

His cloak flared out around him, the raven's feather pattern glinting silver against black in the darkness. He pulled on its magic and activated the second of its two abilities: [Shadow Step]. It was a hungry ability, not something he could use more than once, but in this case, it was the perfect response to having fourteen men armed with bows trying to murder him on an open field.

Velik vanished into a shadowy version of the world, somehow distinctly different from the normal night he'd been in. To the eyes of those men, he'd simply disappeared. To him, though, he'd slipped into a mirror of reality. For the next few seconds, he was a ghost among them. By the time the cloak's enchantment expired, he'd already circled past them.

If he'd been striking to kill, the archers' contributions to their ambush would have ended right there. None of them were past level 35—it was surprising that some of them were even close, considering how peaceful the area was—and he had a legendary spear more than capable of ripping the life out of them. Instead, he drew his dagger and stowed his spear in its normal spot, its form shifted to loop around his arm.

Enchanted with [Bleeding], [Weakness], [Blinding], and [Sharp], it was trivial to stab each target a few times and leave them crippled. [Savage Rhythm] sang through his limbs, enhancing his speed with each strike until he'd put down the entire squadron in a few seconds. None of them were dead, but they were all struggling frantically against the magic that had left their vision dark, their limbs heavy, and their blood flowing both freely and quickly from their wounds.

He took a second to make sure no one was getting back up, claimed their bows as an additional precaution, and scanned the battlefield for his next target. Giller was defending the camp despite the fact that she was completely unarmored and had nothing in her hands but a sword with a six-foot-long blade that she definitely hadn't shown off during the previous week. Presumably, it was enchanted in some way to make it more portable outside of combat.

Seven bandits had descended on the camp, but between her and Torwin, they'd completely locked that group down. A second archer group, perhaps half the size of the one Velik had just disabled, was positioned on the opposite side of the camp, but that didn't make them safe. It was dark and the moon was up.

Bursts of silvery light accompanied panicked and agonized screaming as the bandit archers spontaneously combusted. So much for non-lethal, Velik thought. The whole scuffle had barely lasted twenty seconds, and the attempted ambush had failed miserably. At least, it certainly seemed that way from where he was standing.

Yowling in pain, the cat aborted its leap and dragged the spear down with it. Velik flexed his arms and kept control of the weapon, turning the cat's jump into a downward slam that shook the ground where it hit. Torwin had said not to kill the bandits if possible, though Velik wasn't sure if that was an act of mercy or just to question them about their intentions. Either way, he hadn't mentioned leaving any monsters alive.

Before the cat could scramble away, light arced down the length of the spear. The night blossomed with brilliant light as [Dread Lance] detonated, blowing the cat apart into chunks of bloody meat, bones, and fur. Even the disabled archers thirty feet away were splattered with gore.

[You have slain a bonded ghostwalker cat (level 39).]

[You have been awarded 2 decarmas.]

What does 'bonded' mean?

Before Velik had a chance to consider it, Torwin came sprinting across the field. "Are you alright?" he demanded.

"Fine," Velik said. "Why?"

"I thought you weren't going to kill anybody," the old [Ranger] said. "That seemed like a fatal blow."

"It was, but not to the bandits," Velik explained. "Some sort of monster. A bonded monster, according to the kill notification."

Unexpectedly, Torwin started swearing loudly. The line of expletives went on for several seconds, shifting languages at least once, until the old man stomped over to the still living archers. "On your feet," he barked out. "I've got some questions, and if you want to see the sun again before you die, you're going to answer them."

With confused moans of pain, the bandits allowed themselves to be dragged upright and prodded in the direction of the camp, where they joined the rest of the attackers who'd survived their ill-fated ambush. A quick glance around showed that none of Velik's team had been injured besides himself, though his own wounds were well-hidden under a layer of gore.

"Alright," Giller snapped out once all the bandits were gathered together. "Which one of you idiots is in charge?"