Path of Dragons

Book 2: Chapter 57: Futility

He was dead.

“Help him!” Carmen shouted, whipping her head around. But the Healer she had brought into the mines was busy performing triage on another Warrior. Meanwhile, Colt and Tiffany stood at the head of the tunnel, defending them against a tide of critters. There were hundreds of them, each the size of a basketball and with teeth like razors. Alone, they weren’t that dangerous to anyone with a few levels under their belt. But in the numbers they’d found within the mine’s tunnels, they were like terrestrial piranha that could strip the meat from their prey’s bones in a matter of minutes.

At first, the expedition to exterminate the pests had been safe enough. For the first few days, the group, which consisted of Carmen, Colt, Tiffany, and Brett, had been more than enough to deal with the scattered creatures. However, after a week of constant exploration of the tunnels, which included constant backtracking and frequent trips back to the surface in order to rest, they had finally discovered the nest.

And it was both awful and awe-inspiring. The cavern had contained thousands of the little monsters, each of which were capable of downing a level fifteen warrior. None of her group were that low of a level, but to Carmen, the second she’d laid eyes on the colony of little terrors, she’d known they weren’t up to the task. So, like any good commander, she’d called for a retreat.

That had gone well enough, and in the following days, she’d begun to assemble an assault team. More, she’d sent a runner back to Easton begging for more Healers.

She had yet to hear back from Roman, which wasn’t that surprising. It was an arduous journey made even worse by the onset of winter. So, it made perfect sense that no one had returned.

Yet, Carmen’s hand had been forced when groups of the critters – they were actually called Terrestrial Molaks, according to Brett, whose Vigilante class gave him an ability to identify enemies – started to surface. The first time they had, the critters had killed one of the guards and maimed a couple who’d been on a walk through the town. That had necessitated a response. So, Carmen had commandeered the services of one of the town’s two Healers, gathered a handful of warriors, and set off to exterminate the pests.

It had not gone well.

The mistake was forging ahead and having their Elementalist set fire to the nest. Before they’d done that, Carmen and the others had rigged the surrounding tunnels to collapse, so they thought they could trap the creatures inside and burn them to death. And at first, it had worked well enough, with hundreds of the little monsters perishing in Logan’s summoned flames.

That was one thing that had changed with the apocalypse. Conventional combustion was far less effective than it once had been, which was why gas cars and guns didn’t really work as they once had. However, magical flames picked up the slack, and once set, they could use the ambient ethera as fuel. So, Logan’s fires burned hot and fast, enveloping the entire cavern in seconds.

The group was busy patting themselves on the back when a trio of much larger molaks came crashing through the debris blocking the tunnels and giving the rest of the critters an escape route.

More distressingly, it gave them a free shot at the people who’d attempted to engineer their deaths. Her people had fought valiantly, and yet, there had been far too many molaks. So, Carmen had organized a fighting retreat, eventually taking shelter in a small cavern with a single narrow and easily defensible entrance. Since then, they’d fought a steady stream of the critters, taking a plethora of wounds along the way.

The Healer – Keith – had done everything he could, but it was obvious that it would only be a matter of time before he ran low on ethera. In the meantime, the wounded continued to pile up, overwhelming even his magic.

Carmen checked the young man’s pulse and found nothing. Still, she hoped that Keith could do something. So, she reached down and grabbed the body around the waist before throwing it – no, him – over her armored shoulder. He didn’t react at all. As she ran across the small cavern, Carmen tried to convince herself that her burden was simply unconscious. Keith would save him. She just knew it.

So, when she reached the Healer, who already had three patients, she gently laid the body down and begged, “Please…please tell me you can help him…”

Keith took one look at the young man, his eyes flicking down to the gaping wound in his chest, then shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “He’s already gone. Even if he wasn’t, I don’t have the ethera to…I can’t do anything about that kind of injury.”

He hung his head. Whether it was exhaustion or shame, Carmen had no idea, but for her part, she felt both. Everyone had put their faith in her, and she’d rewarded that trust by getting people killed. Three were already dead, and she had no idea if the critters had made it outside. If they had…

No.

She refused to go down that road. She’d done everything she could, and at every turn, she’d made the choices she thought appropriate. She couldn’t let herself drown in self-pity or guilt. That didn’t help anyone.

So, she reached out and gripped Keith’s bony shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He really was a thin man, largely because he’d been a member of one of the groups of refugees that had initially been denied entry into Easton; it was only recently that his people had been allowed in, and his condition reflected that. He wasn’t precisely unhealthy, but he clearly hadn’t been flourishing either.

Carmen had hoped to provide him a fresh start.

Now, he was watching the people who depended on his miraculous healing ability die. That was going to take a toll.

“You’re doing everything you can,” she said. “Keep it up.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Then, she ran a hand through her hair – she had no idea where her helmet had gone – and when she pulled her hand away, she saw that it was bloody. It didn’t matter. She was still on her feet, and she wouldn’t trouble the Healer for a mere scratch. Before Keith could notice, she stepped away and returned to the entrance. There, she saw Colt hard at work. Most of the time, he simply sliced the little monsters to ribbons with precise, perfectly-controlled attacks. However, from time to time, he would use one of his techniques, and one of the larger critters would simply fall to chunks.

He called it Blade Storm, and the way he described it, it manifested thirteen razor-sharp blades of ethera that cut his target to pieces. It was expensive to use, but it was as sure of a kill as any ability could guarantee.

By comparison, the rawboned Tiffany’s knuckles were bloody and from her knuckles grew a series of ethereal claws. When she punched, they ripped jagged wounds in the creatures’ coarse-furred hides.

She had a few other abilities that she rarely used, which was common for the combatants. Most of them didn’t have enough experience to use anything but their go-to skills, spells, and abilities, which was often enough to deal with the typical threats they saw during routine patrols. This was different, though, and it highlighted a huge issue with how they were training the potential fighters.

But that was a concern for another day. For now, Carmen stepped up and shouldered the exhausted Tiffany aside. As she did, she growled, “My turn.”

Then, she manifested her blacksmithing hammer with Summon Tool, and planted herself beside Colt. It wasn’t long before she was forced to use the crafting tool for its adapted purpose when she crushed a critter’s spine. The little round creatures had odd anatomy, but she’d fought them enough by that point that she knew precisely where to hit them to do the most damage possible. She employed that knowledge to great effect as she stoically stood vigil, shoulder-to-shoulder with Colt.

At some point, one of the other Warriors replaced Colt, but Carmen barely noticed. Instead, she focused entirely on the task at hand, which meant using her immense Strength to pummel the monsters to death. Because she was used to long hours at the forge, she barely grew fatigued, and she didn’t have any combat skills or abilities, so she never ran low on ethera. As a result, Carmen felt like she could keep going indefinitely.

Of course, that wasn’t true.

Eventually, she would grow tired. But that point was a long way off.

In addition, she took almost no damage due to the high quality of her armor. If the rest of her people had been wearing something similar, perhaps they could have avoided casualties altogether. But she’d been too caught up in wanting to be properly compensated for her work. All the best crafters were, largely because they all thought the danger had passed. Clearly, they were wrong, and they needed to get back to the basics of collective survival. When Easton had first been founded, everyone had contributed without thought for how it would personally benefit each one. And that was fine, in a vacuum. People deserved to earn a living. Yet, the world was still changing, and everyone’s lives were still balanced on the edge of a knife. Carmen – and the other crafters – needed to do what they could to keep people from falling over that edge.

Those thoughts flitted through Carmen’s mind as she monotonously slaughtered one critter after another. It wasn’t until she realized that she stood alone against the tide that she began to realize how dire their situation was. She’d been fighting for hours, and so had everyone else. They’d picked up one wound after another until, one by one, they’d fallen. She couldn’t look back to check if they were dead or simply wounded, but she feared the worst.

That thought crashed into her mind, and in that moment, something broke. She didn’t grow any stronger. Her fatigue, thin though it was, didn’t wash away. Instead, it was like she experienced a rush of adrenaline that, later, she would liken to what a parent might feel when she saw her child being threatened. In those sorts of situations, people had been known to lift cars, and Carmen’s physical abilities skyrocketed along those same lines.

Suddenly, every fall of her hammer sent a critter splattering against the ground. At the same time, her fury – or frustration, perhaps – climbed to unprecedented levels. She took that out on the monsters before her.

And for a while, it was enough to convince her that she was going to win.

But reality came crashing down on her when that surge of adrenaline faded, and her arms started to feel like they were encased in lead. She slowed, and her blows lost their lethality. Still, she pushed on, trying to force the strength back into her muscles. It didn’t work.

A critter latched onto her arm. Then, as she was trying to dislodge it, another crunched down on her leg. She kicked it away, but another soon replaced it. Then another after that. She kept swinging, screaming all the while. From somewhere behind her, she heard a scream, and she felt the weak activation of skills. Yet, she couldn’t even turn to see what was going on, much less help the people who’d chosen to put their faith in her.

Just as she felt a monster latch onto her neck, sending a gout of blood gushing into its greedy mouth, she spared a thought for Alyssa. She wasn’t sure if she believed in an afterlife, but in a world of magic and monsters, the idea didn’t seem as silly as it once might have. And while she didn’t want to leave Miguel, she couldn’t deny that there was a part of her that welcomed death and the possibility of being reunited with the woman she loved.

The moment that thought crossed her mind, she felt a surge of rotten guilt envelope her. She was better than that. She needed to be. Miguel needed her to be stronger.

With a roar, she grabbed the critter and tossed it aside before ramming into the nearby wall and squashing the trio of monsters clinging to that side of her body. Then, she did the same to the other side. Over and over, she let the critters latch onto her, then she used her own body as a hammer, and the wall as an anvil. Like that, dozens died, but she certainly didn’t escape unscathed.

Her armor had limits, after all. And it couldn’t cover everything. Her growing fatigue hadn’t disappeared, either.

No – that brief surge had given her a few moments more, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

Still, Carmen fought on until she felt the effects of blood loss and exhaustion drive her to her knees. The first time it happened, she forced herself back to her feet with a swell of forced energy, but it didn’t last long.

It couldn’t.

Soon enough, she fell and couldn’t regain her feet. Even so, she never stopped swinging her hammer. Even when her blows lost all strength, she refused to give in.

Finally, she fell and couldn’t force herself to rise.

Briefly, Carmen felt sharp teeth on the back of her head, but then, there was something different.

Blistering heat washed over her. Because of Resist Fire, which was no doubt intended to help her endure the heat associated with magical forges, she was unharmed. The same couldn’t be said for the critters, and the smell of burning fur filled Carmen’s nostrils. Once the confusion passed, she looked up to see a hellish scene.

Monsters burned, some of them so hotly that they actually melted. Amidst that stood a man, tall and thin and wearing a red-and-white robe. Carmen recognized him from somewhere, but in her exhausted state, she couldn’t quite place him. However, she certainly remembered the person beside him. Or rather, the morningstar at the woman’s waist.

“Verin,” she muttered.

It was the Healer who’d been with Alyssa when she’d died. That probably meant something, but now that the threat was ended, even that mystery couldn’t keep Carmen from slipping into unconsciousness.